Salamander Scales
by YamaS
Summary: Draco sabotages a potion. HD. CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN
1. The beginning

Title: Salamander Scales Author: Yama Strife Rating: G (will go up as the story progresses) Summary: A botched potion screws up harry, it's all malfoy's fault.etc etc. I'm sure if you're thinking it's cliché you're probably right, but oh well. Later chapters added later. Disclaimer: My name isn't J.K. Rowling, therefore, they aren't mine. Pairing: will eventually be Draco/Harry. That means boy/boy relationships. I'm sure you can read, so if you don't like that idea, go away. You can flame if you like, I don't mind. I'll just laugh at your stupidity and close-mindedness. ````````````````````````````````````````````````````  
  
Snape stepped quickly into the classroom, his black robes billowing behind him more than should have been possible in the rather stuffy potions classroom. The class was cold as usual; a funny thing considering the room was practically airtight. The greasy-haired potions master required it that way so fires couldn't spread. Sure, he could've wind-proofed the cauldron burners, but that would require too much time and energy. Besides, a fire here and there might teach the pesky children to be more careful.  
  
Snape looked around the dungeon classroom to see if anyone was absent, and sure enough, Harry Potter was not in his seat. The Professor glared daggers in the direction of fiery-haired Ron Weasley, expecting him to provide some lame excuse for Potter's absence.  
  
Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat; as if speaking and provoking the Professor into shouting was the last thing he wanted to do, until Snape shouted, "Well? Where is Potter?"  
  
Ron cringed a bit, and Hermione, seated beside Ron said, "Please, Professor, Harry wasn't feeling well, so he just stepped into the hospital wing a moment to get something for his stomach."  
  
Snape 'harrumphed' a bit and made as if to say something (most likely a something of the point-deducting sort) when Harry entered the classroom; looking as if he's rather be in bed than in potions. Since Harry looked like that on most days Snape didn't pay him any mind. Instead, he shot him a venomous look, the one reserved especially for Harry, and said in and annoyingly superior tone, "Mr. Potter, it may come as a shock to you, but even celebrities are not allowed to be late for class."  
  
Harry grabbed his head as though it was about to explode from the pain, and this would somehow hold it together. He looked up through long eyelashes, his face directed toward the ground, and said rather weakly, "Sorry, Sir, I thought I asked Ron to tell you-"  
  
"Oh, Ms.Granger informed me of your whereabouts and condition, but next time be on time." Then as an afterthought, "Ten points from Gryffindor."  
  
Harry dragged his feet slowly over to his chair, as if each step could cause his head to split in half or make him lose the breakfast he never ate. He took his place at the table beside Ron and placed his head against the cool wooden tabletop. Hermione reached in front of Ron and placed her hand in a motherly fashion on Harry's cheek. "Well, Harry, your fever seems to have gone down a bit. It should be gone by next period." She said in a relieved voice.  
  
"What did Pomfrey give ya mate? Was it gross?" Ron asked.  
  
"Oh Ron, what does it matter as long as it gets rid of Harry's fever?" Hermione stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"Well, if it makes him toss his cookies it does."  
  
"But-" Hermione began, but Harry cut her off before she could finish. The last thing he wanted to hear was a drawn out fight about how gross his medicine had tasted. (In fact, it was quite disgusting).  
  
It seemed that this was, indeed, the very last thing Snape wanted to hear. He proved this as he spat out; "I'll make you test potions that taste one hundred times as horrendous if you don't pay attention at the front Weasley, Potter."  
  
He waved his wand at the board and instructions for the day's potion appeared. "Potter, you'll be working with Mr. Malfoy. His punctuality may not wear off on you, but maybe a small amount of his talent for potions will. And as we all know, and bit of improvement would be welcome." Malfoy smirked, and Harry just groaned.  
  
Snape, seeming testier than usual, paired off all the Gryffindors with the Slytherins. Usually he would let them choose their own partners, or at least pair them with members of the same house, most likely to save himself a headache than anything. A headache which now seemed inevitable. It seemed the Draco and Harry were trying to kill each other with glares, in a last ditch effort to prevent themselves from working together. Though, had it been successful, Harry would've been fifty times crispier. Harry was just too tired and sick to really give his patented Die-Malfoy glare any effort.  
  
Finally, getting bored with the glare-at-Potter game, and with his usual lazy drawl, Malfoy said, "Get over here Potter. As much as I hate to be anywhere near you, my telekinetic powers are not quite up to par, and I can't make the potion with my mind, so I require you to move over here."  
  
Harry responded with a not quite so witty, "No, you come here," and placed his flushed face against the desk with a pained look. His eyebrows were drawn together as if he wished someone would knock him unconscious so he could succumb to some peaceful pain-free darkness.  
  
Malfoy's eyes softened for an instant of rare compassion for Potter. He usually only enjoyed people in pain when he delivered it himself. However, the moment was fleeting, and he snapped. "It isn't my fault if you have a hangover, so just get over here."  
  
Harry with much effort, lifted up his head and said, "Hangover? I don't drink, Malfoy."  
  
Draco looked at Harry skeptically and opened his mouth to say something, but Snape cut him short. "Just move Potter, you can't be that sick. Besides, if you had learned anything in this class you'd know that the medicine would work better if you move around so I can work through your blood. Besides, you're wasting time with your bickering."  
  
Harry sighed in defeat, grabbed his things and walked toward Malfoy's table near the front of the classroom. As much as he hated to admit it, he did begin to feel better the more he moved, like Snape had said. Before Harry could sit down, (Crabbe and Goyle had abandoned their seats to sit beside Neville and Ron, whom Snape had paired them with) Malfoy demanded he go to the supply cabinet to retrieve Flobberworms and dung beetle antenna. They had the rest of the ingredients they needed in their own supply stashes. Harry went back to his seat with the necessary ingredients without knowing what he was using them for. When he inquired this thought to Malfoy he got a sneer and a "Can't read the board Potter? Need new glasses?"  
  
Harry could read the board very well, thank you, and told this to Malfoy. He just wasn't sure what a Sansus Pyro potion would do. "It's very elementary for a seventh year class Potter. I suppose Professor Snape wants us to do a review of sorts." Harry felt like a complete idiot, but he gave Malfoy a questioning look. Draco sighed, not believing the sort of people he was even talking to such an idiot, and said. "It protects people from fire Potter, fire. Can't you read?"  
  
Harry looked at the instructions on the board and began to skin the flobberworms, and finely shred them as directed. He added a vial of dragon tears to the antenna (though he wasn't quite sure what it would do to help fireproof a person) and made a rather black looking paste. He added these to the cauldron and then saw Malfoy add something dark red to the mixture.  
  
"What did you just add to that Malfoy?"  
  
Draco looked at Harry, not realizing he had been watching him, and then glanced at the list of potion requirements at the board before saying, "Fire salamander scales" a little too quickly for a Malfoy drawl.  
  
Harry look suspiciously at Malfoy before stirring the potion clockwise three times. It looked to Harry to be a shade or two darker than most others, (Crabbe and Neville's being a bright green and fizzing as opposed to the bright red of the other. Was Snape asking for an explosion, pairing those two up together?) but Harry figured it was close enough.  
  
Snape was making one in a pair (or all the Gryffindors) test the potion, making them run a hand through a rather large candle flame. (The flame stuck to Neville's hand when he tried to test it. "A flame attracting potion, stupid boy! Someone take him to the hospital wing"). When Snape got to Harry and Draco he made the emerald-eyed boy test the potion. Harry wasn't surprised, but he was still insulted, and sighed at the injustice of being the resident potion tester for seven years. As Harry drank the potion, he noticed that it was unusually hot for something that was supposed to retract heat. Snape clicked his tongue and said something to Draco that sounded suspiciously like "Not your fault-funny colour- Potter, after all."  
  
The bell rang and Snape dismissed the class aside from Harry who still had to test the potion.  
  
Snape held out the candle, and Harry made to put his hand through it when he suddenly felt dizzy. He placed a hand on the desk to steady himself and looked around, blinking, and getting the spell to pass. When the spots in front of his eyes cleared he saw Ron and Hermione waiting by the door, and Malfoy sneering, looking insulted that he that he had to walk near the Weasel and the Mudblood to get out the door.  
  
Harry was starting to feel slightly sick again. He put his hand though the flame, just wanting to leave the class and rest for a bit. To his great shock, he felt the heat of the flame and let out a little yelp of surprise. He saw Malfoy knock Ron over as he exited the class. At that moment he suddenly felt a great rush of pain in his chest and Harry collapsed.  
  
The last thing he saw before merciful blackness took him was a very shocked and scandalized Snape catch Harry as he fell forward and Hermione and Ron charge forward full speed to where Snape laid him on the cold dungeon floor. 


	2. Draco Screams Like a Girl

Title: Salamander Scales Chapter Two: Draco Screams Like a Girl Author: Yama Strife Rating: Still G Disclaimer: My name isn't J.K. Rowling, therefore, they aren't mine Summary: Harry's in the hospital wing, Draco learns not to leave his hand lying around. Notes: This is Chapter Two. Thanks to all the people who have reviewed so far, and so quickly. I'm flattered: Lady.of.the.Stars, Ice Lupus, Redmeadow, chlorine, Miss CJ, Silver Dragonrider (your comment made me laugh, thanks), Princess of Mirrors, LadyLyra, Maira and nekO; your comments are so kind. Thank you so much. And.it's a little Au it seems. Just in the fact that I haven't included the death of the character from the fifth book. Though it does mention the death from book four.so.it is a bit of a spoiler if you haven't read it. This is Slash. Eventual Harry/Draco. Don't like? Don't read. Flames are welcome, gives me a chance to laugh at your stupidity. You have been warned. It's also a bit Hermione/Ron, because they're cute.  
  
On with the Fic!  
  
Salamander Scales  
  
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Harry rolled onto his back and awoke with a loud groan. He opened his eyes and yellow light flooded his senses. He blinked to adjust to this new brightness when he noticed the dark blobs floating above him. He blinked again, this time in shock and reached for his glasses. When Harry noticed the bedside table was on the wrong side, he realized where he was.  
  
"Hospital wing?" he said groggily.  
  
Someone placed black wire frames on Harry's nose and he realized what those three blobs were. Hermione, Ron and Professor Snape were standing above him, two wearing faces of concern, the latter not one of them. Snape looked thoroughly annoyed and Harry didn't see why he should be. After all, Harry didn't ask Snape to be there, and most certainly wasn't the first face Harry wanted to see when he woke up.  
  
Harry sat up and was about to ask what happened when he felt a sharp pain pierce his chest. It hurt Harry to breathe; the pain came in short stabs when he did. He furrowed his brows and tried to ignore the ache that was steadily getting worse. What was going on?  
  
To the casual observer, Harry may have just looked confused, but Hermione Granger was not a casual observer. She could tell Harry was in pain, and didn't know how to help, so she settled with asking, "Harry, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?"  
  
Harry wasn't one to complain needlessly, so he just straightened his face the best he could, smiled, and said, "Oh, nothing 'Mione. Just got a cramp. Think I must've slept funny."  
  
This would've been a convincing lie, had it not been for Harry taking little gasps after every few words and then screwing up his face in agony.  
  
Ron didn't say anything; he just sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Harry, concern causing a slight frown between his brows.  
  
Snape didn't look worried at all. In fact, he looked down right peeved. "Your friends may appreciate these humble acts of modesty, Potter, but I do not," he said in a low whisper. "Tell us what is wrong, otherwise help cannot be provided."  
  
With that said, he swept away. His robes fluttering violently behind him. It seemed they existed only to provide the Potions Master with a dramatic exit.  
  
Harry noticed a form pass by the door to the hospital wing, chin in the air arrogantly, and for a fleeting moment Harry felt the pain in his chest residing. But every moment after that brief interlude, it seemed to get worse. Finally, it became excruciating and Harry felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes.  
  
Ron leaned forward onto his knees ferociously; (knocking Hermione into a nearby chair in the process) grabbed Harry's shoulders, clearly not thinking properly, and shook him rather rapidly. "Hey, Mate? Are you alright? What's wrong?"  
  
Harry decided then that the last thing he wanted was Ron shaking him into a wall and causing him a head injury on top of his chest pains, those being more than enough for any normal person to handle. Instead, he placed his hands over top of Ron's to calm him down and said, "it's alright Ron," taking short breaths in-between, "just a pain in my chest, it'll go away soon enough."  
  
Hermione stood up and walked over to Harry's side. "What kind of pain, Harry? Maybe describing it will help us to figure out the cause," she reasoned.  
  
"Well, I'm sure it's just from the fever I had earlier," but looking at Hermione's withering glance he sighed and continued. "It's just a stabbing pain right near my heart, and it sort of burns in my chest. But it could be heartburn, right?" Harry asked hopefully before doubling over in pain.  
  
Hermione panicked when she saw Harry in such a state. She yelled to Ron, "Go get Madam Pomfrey! Hurry!" and sat on the bed beside Harry, an arm around his shoulders her other hand rubbing his back to help with the pain. Hermione had something of a motherly instinct, especially when it concerned her friends.  
  
Ron practically rocketed back into the room to see how Harry was faring. He tripped on one of the legs to a nearby bed and sprawled face first on the floor. Madam Pomfrey bustled in behind, stepping over him waving her arms and shouting, "shoo, shoo, you're only getting in the way!"  
  
She checked Harry's temperature to see if he still had a fever, but none seemed to be present. In fact, in the Matron's opinion, Harry should've been fine. The medicine had rid him of the fever and the stomachache, so what was causing the boy this much pain?  
  
After musing over this for a few more seconds, she noticed Harry's companions were still in the room. Madam Pomfrey gave them her best "go away, visiting time is over" look, but they would have none of it. In fact, Hermione, the cleverest witch of her age, conjured up two relatively comfortable chairs and placed them beside Harry's bed. The chairs in the hospital wings were not very comfortable. Hermione supposed it was to discourage people from staying very long. After all, who really wants to sit in a splintery chair with all the stuffing sticking out?  
  
Madam Pomfrey made Harry a Sleep-E-Z draught and told him to rest up. As he fell into the ever welcome darkness, he heard Hermione and Ron having a whispered Brain Storming session about what could have possibly happened, while Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue at "people overstaying their welcome".  
  
Harry awoke a little before five o'clock that evening. The pain just wouldn't cease, and it kept growing worse with each moment. It had moved from just physical pain to something resembling emotional anguish as well. He felt as though he was missing something, and he would never get it back. In fact it was quite like a feeling of mourning. Like the pain he felt after Cedric died, only worse. He looked to the night table and saw someone had removed his glasses after he fell asleep. He put them on and glanced toward Ron and Hermione. Hermione had nodded off and her head was resting against Ron's shoulder. Ron looked as if he was caught between being happy and terrified and his body was held stiffly at an odd and most likely uncomfortable angle. Harry thought they made a wonderful couple. He had never fancied Hermione that way. She was more of a sister to him, like Ron was a brother. So what better to have happen than them getting together?  
  
Harry shook his head and realized he had zoned out. Ron was looking at him with an expression that said, "help me!" so Harry coughed loudly and Hermione bolted upward and looked around in a panicked manner. "Wha- what happened? What did I miss?" She flushed slightly, realizing she had fallen asleep.  
  
"Hey you two," Harry interrupted the awkward moment, "it'll be dinner soon. Get yourselves down to the Great Hall. I'll be fine."  
  
Hermione protested, but Harry was so adamant that she finally agreed, if she could bring something up to eat for him later. That, and the fact that Harry reminded her she had missed all of her classes that day to sit with him in the Hospital wing. Hermione shouted, "Oh no! I'll need to get all the assignments plus extra credit to make up for it!" And with a quick hug she ran out of the room. Ron patted Harry on the back, said, "don't worry, you can copy my homework," and followed Hermione out the door.  
  
Madam Pomfrey was not, however, gone. She hurried into the room, muttering about visitors and clucking her tongue again. She had what resembled a large boulder in her arms, and a small hammer. She smashed the boulder, handed a piece to another patient on the opposite side of the room as Harry, and then turned her attention to The-Boy-Who-Was-Sick.  
  
She touched Harry's forehead with her "magic fever reader meter" and found his temperature was still normal. She smiled a bit and said, "well we know it isn't a fever, but what is causing it is still a mystery."  
  
She looked at Harry's face and saw his downcast expression. "Why Harry dear, whatever is the matter?" the motherly matron asked.  
  
"I dunno," replied Harry, "I'm just feeling a little depressed I guess."  
  
Madam Pomfrey went across the room to retrieve the boulder of chocolate and smashed off a rather large piece. "This should pick you up in no time at all," she said, as she hurried away adding 'emotional distress' to Harry's list of symptoms.  
  
Harry sat alone for about twenty minutes, just trying to deal with the intense pain. He wondered if Madam Pomfrey had a Breathe-E-Z potion around somewhere. Harry didn't even know if those existed. He was thinking about this when he realized the pain in his chest was subsiding. Maybe it was the chocolate. But that was for energy revitalization, not chest pains, right? He wondered what could've caused this merciful break from the undaunting pain. It was reduced to a dull throb in his chest and his breathing was less laboured and getting stronger by the minute, when-  
  
SLAM!  
  
Harry almost jumped out of his skin. A very pale someone flanked by two tall beast-like someones (somethings?) ran into the hospital wing. It was Draco Malfoy. He was cradling his hand like a precious infant (or in his case, a valuable jewel) and Crabbe and Goyle behind him were just standing there.like.Crabbe and Goyle. "Madam Pomfrey! Help! Help!" Shouted Malfoy. Anyone would've thought it was a life a death situation. Draco always was one for dramatics.  
  
Madam Pomfrey Bustled out as quickly as she could in her overly puffy dress. "What? What is it?" she asked, with a horrified expression on her face.  
  
Malfoy held out his injured hand and whimpered a bit. He was milking it, just like when he got slashed by Buckbeak the hippogriff. "Crabbe sat on my hand, I believe it is now broken in several places," he said pulling a face that looked as if Malfoy thought this was an injustice that should be punishable by death.  
  
Madam Pomfrey took the delicate, pale hand in her own and pushed down in a few places. Malfoy let out a rather undiginfied yelp, snatched his hand away and held it to his chest. "Are you mad, woman? That hurts!" He shouted, and Harry sniggered at this.  
  
"Think it's funny Potter? My hand is broken in twenty places-"  
  
"Actually more like two dear," said the Matron.  
  
Malfoy waved this away with his good wrist. "Whatever. The point is, Potter," he said the name as if it tasted foul in his mouth, "at least I didn't pass out when my hand got a little burnt." He then smirked that superior smirk.  
  
Harry looked at him in disbelief. "You weren't there, how would you know if I had passed out?" Then, "Wait, I didn't pass out because of the fire, I passed out because of-" He stopped suddenly realizing the pain he was about to speak of was completely gone. He looked around in disbelief, wondering what had caused it to go away.  
  
"Well," drawled Malfoy, "I hate to interrupt your interesting story, and the dramatic pause there, genius really, but I need to fix my hand." His voice dripped with sarcasm, not unlike Malfoy.  
  
Harry ignored Draco, nothing he said was worth hearing anyway, in Harry's opinion, and he yelled out, "I feel completely better! What happened? Madam Pomfrey, was it the chocolate?"  
  
Draco pouted and said, "Me first, he's feeling better and I'm still in pain. Plus I'm so much more important, and good looking."  
  
"Yes, yes Mr. Malfoy." Madam Pomfrey waved her wand at Draco's wrist and said, 'Bracchium Redintegro'. Draco let out another one of those charming aristocratic yelps as the bones repaired themselves. His face relaxed, and the matron turned her attention to Harry and said, "Now, Mr. Potter, you were saying?"  
  
"Yes!" he shouted a little too loudly, and an occupant in a nearby bed groaned at the noise. "Oops, sorry." He apologized. "Anyway, like I was saying, I feel completely better. Was it the chocolate that fixed it?"  
  
"No, no.it wasn't the chocolate. I want you to stay awhile longer regardless, Harry." She looked at Malfoy, "you can go now dear, your wrist will be fine."  
  
Draco looked at Potter, smirked and said, "don't get too comfortable scarhead, these strange diseases always come back." With that, he turned on his heel and walked out the door with a grace only possible for a Malfoy. But then again, anyone could look elegant beside Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
Harry leaned back against his pillow, arms behind his head, basking in his good health. But it was gone all too soon. Harry noticed a dull throb begin to beat in his chest. 'Oh gawd,' he thought, 'not again'. With every passing moment it got worse. He decided to tell the witch in charge. He looked to the bed across from him, but the occupant was asleep. He didn't want word getting out that he complained about the pains incessantly. He couldn't stand it if Malfoy found out, he'd mock him forever.  
  
When he called Madam Pomfrey over and told her what was happening with his predicament, she looked puzzled a moment and asked, "Potter, when did you start to feel sick?"  
  
"Well," he started, "this morning when I woke-"  
  
"No, no I mean, when did you get these symptoms?"  
  
"Oh, heh, right. Well, in potions class I was testing my 'Sansus Pyro' and I started to get a pain after I tested it with the fire," he explained.  
  
"Mmm-hmm.and you say you felt better just in the last few minutes? But then it started to hurt again." She stopped to think a moment. "How far into class did you test this potion?"  
  
"After the bell.why?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused.  
  
If Harry had lived in a cartoon, a little lightbulb would've gone off over the Matron's head. "Call Professor Snape and the Headmaster!" she said.  
  
End Ch. 2 ``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Well, that's that. Next chapter will hopefully be posted on Friday or Monday. I'll see what I can do. Has anyone figured out what's wrong with Harry? I've left lots of hints ^_^  
  
Thanks for reading!  
  
(Btw.I used a Latin dictionary, and 'Bracchium Redintegro' just means Wrist Repair, or repair wrist..whichever.) 


	3. Dumbledore Knows All

Title: Salamander Scales Chapter Three: Dumbledore Knows All Author: Yama Strife Rating: Still G Disclaimer: My name isn't J.K. Rowling, therefore, they aren't mine Summary: Snape has a revelation, the boys are roommates Notes: This is Chapter Three. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. Your comments are so kind. Thank you so much. And.it's a little Au it seems. Just in the fact that I haven't included the death of the character from the fifth book. Though it does mention the death from book four.so.it is a bit of a spoiler if you haven't read it. I'll apologize profusely here, because the chapter is a week late. My schedule is a bit hectic, I'm afraid, I'll try and put a new chapter up every week or so. This chapter is shorter than the last, sorry. This is Slash. Eventual Harry/Draco. Don't like? Don't read. Flames are welcome, gives me a chance to laugh at your stupidity. You have been warned. It's also a bit Hermione/Ron, because they're cute.  
  
On with the fic! Salamander Scales, the third.  
  
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If Harry had lived in a cartoon, a little lightbulb would've gone off over the Matron's head. "Call Professor Snape and the Headmaster!" she said.  
  
Harry looked at her in disbelief. She had her hand in the air, as if she had just made a great discovery, reminiscent of the great Archimedes. "Er- excuse me," he interrupted her moment of triumph to ask a simple question. "Who's calling the Headmaster? I'm in bed." He trailed off to look around the room to see if he could spot the subject of her command.  
  
"Oh of course dear, just a figure of speech." She looked crestfallen that her moment of glorious discovery had been spoiled by such an obvious cognizance.  
  
Madam Pomfrey walked toward a perch where a pretty fawn barn owl was taking a nap. She touched it lightly on the head between its pointed ears and it awoke with a start. The owl hooted angrily at having its sleep interrupted and flapped its wings savagely. Madam Pomfrey patted it on the head and said softly, "Samantha dear, please take this letter to the Headmaster immediately." She went to a messy table-highly unusual for the perpetually tidy Matron- and picked up some parchment and ink to write a quick note with. She attached it to the barn owl's scaly leg and it flew away. Clearly unhappy, it made as much noise as it could on its way to the window.  
  
The occupant on the bed across from Harry, which he recognized as a seventh year Ravenclaw, threw one of his pillows toward the source of the noise which was now long gone, shouted, "Shuttup, sleeping now." clamped a pillow over his head and went back to sleep.  
  
Harry beckoned Madam Pomfrey over to him with a wave of his hand, clearly not wanting to make any unnecessary noise and have a pillow thrown at his head too.  
  
When Madam Pomfrey got to his side her asked her quietly, this saving him some pain and keeping the snoring Ravenclaw asleep, "What's he in here for Madam Pomfrey?" waving vaguely to the bed across the room from him.  
  
"Oh, that fellow? Poor boy," she sighed. "It seems that he was the recipient of some sort of practical joke. Poor Mr. Goldstien, being a prefect and all, gets picked on quite a bit by the troublemakers. Someone gave him some sort of chocolate with something nasty in it." She then glared at Harry, which shocked him considerably. "Probably something from the joke shop of your friends, the Weasley twins." She pulled her lips into a thin line, looking remarkable like Aunt Petunia. She turned on her heel and stalked over to her desk where she sat down and started filling out more forms. Harry couldn't see what they said from where he sat, but he was sure they had something to do with him.  
  
"Well, Mr. Potter," she said, looking up from her official looking papers. "It seems that if I am correct, and I usually am, that you'll be able to leave tonight. Tomorrow at the latest."  
  
Harry clutched his chest, his hand gripping his pyjamas and making large amounts of wrinkles. He couldn't believe he'd be better by tomorrow. This was some of the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life, and the Matron just stood there and said he'd be fine? Harry opened his mouth to ask her if she had gone mad when Professor Dumbledore strolled in, flanked by a fuming Professor Snape.  
  
"What's all this, then?" Snape shouted. "I was brewing a very time consuming concoction, and I consider it to be top priority. Even if it means Mr. Potter will have to suffer some pains." He sat down on a nearby chair, folded his arms and said in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "As heart wrenching as that may be."  
  
Dumbledore smiled in that all knowing way of his and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half moon spectacles. "Well Harry, it's obvious to see you're hurting a considerable amount, but thanks to Madam Pomfrey," he motioned to his left, "and Professor Snape, as soon as we fill him in; you'll be better in now time at all."  
  
Severus snorted and crossed his legs. "Yes, please, do fill me in. As much as I love these friendly get-togethers I have other matters I must attend to." Harry understood why he disliked Snape so much in moments like this.  
  
Everyone's attention turned from Harry to Snape, including that of Anthony Goldstien, the sick Ravenclaw. Apparently he decided that he would get no sleep anyway, so he may as well listen in. Harry was glad that the attention had shifted to Snape. He hated feeling like and animal on display, even more so when he was sick and looking pathetic.  
  
"Severus, you are aware Potter became sick and fainted in your class, correct?" Asked Madam Pomfrey, much like an interrogator in an old police film.  
  
"Actually, no, I wasn't aware he was sick," replied Snape. "I carried him up here and he was kicking and screaming the whole time, not at all unconscious. And I did it just because I enjoy Potter's company so much," he sneered.  
  
Madam Pomfrey glared at him. "Well, if you're so smart, why don't you tell us what you think is wrong." She said rather childishly.  
  
"I'm sure I'd love to solve Potter's little dilemma for him-" Harry furrowed his brows, half from pain, and half from glaring at the Professor- "but you see, it's quite impossible if the little hero won't tell anyone what's wrong." He looked at Harry distastefully.  
  
Harry would've yelled at Snape for the injustice of what he had just said, but instead he doubled over in anguish and prayed that someone would do something soon. There was only so much he could take. He then realized that Snape was watching him, and not wanting to appear weak, he straightened up the best he could, and gripped the white cotton sheets instead, his knuckles turning white, and sweat beading on his forehead.  
  
Severus turned his attention back to Madam Pomfrey. "It's obvious he is in pain," he said, "but what exactly is the problem?"  
  
Madam Pomfrey looked and Snape, satisfied that he was being civilized for once, and explained what was wrong with Harry, that being the pain in his chest, and the emotional hurt.  
  
"What do you make of this, Professor Snape?" asked Dumbledore kindly, the sparkle still in his eye. "I'd recommend a therapist," Snape mumbled, looking at the floor; but apparently Dumbledore heard him because he smiled slightly, and said with a hint of laughter in his voice, "come again?"  
  
Snape looked up at Dumbledore and said, "sounds like a flu and common teenage angst. But I don't see the rest of the school complaining when faced with similar symptoms." As he lapsed back into his characteristic Potter criticizing.  
  
Harry opened his mouth to speak; sitting up sharply, but Dumbledore help up his hand to stop him. "It seems," the Headmaster said, "that Harry is experiencing some sort of side effect from a bad potion. What would you say to that Professor?"  
  
Snape looked as though he was trying his hardest to bite back a comment like, "It's expected, Potter is always making a mess of his potions," but decided instead to bite his tongue and instead say, "We were only making Fire-Repelling potions. What could've-" His eyes suddenly widened and his eyebrows were lost under his dark hair. "Oh no, Malfoy." Snape stood up suddenly and swept out of the room in such a frenzy the nearby curtains fluttered in the wind he left behind him.  
  
Madam Pomfrey had an eyebrow raised quizzically toward the doors, disbelief at what she'd just seen apparent on her face. Dumbledore just smiled again, obviously highly amused and sat on the edge of Harry's bed. "Harry, I know you're in some pain, but it will feel better in a moment, I'm quite sure." And he chuckled quietly, as though he was sharing a joke with himself.  
  
And sure enough, the dizzying depressing thoughts in Harry's head were slowing down, and he took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of pain free air filling his lungs. He was just about to suggest that Professor Dumbledore take Trelawny's place when Snape ushered a highly affronted Malfoy into the room. Harry's good mood fled. His least favourite person just had to show up again today. Seeing Malfoy two times more in a day than was usual was more than Harry cared for. Or more than anyone should care for, he though bitterly.  
  
Malfoy stood beside Snape near the doorway, not wanting to be anywhere near The-Boy-Who-Was-Annoying. He glared at Potter, and the room in general -Harry was sure the lamp and table beside his bed looked insulted- and said, "Well, what's going on? I haven't got all day!"  
  
Harry had to admit that Malfoy certainly had guts. Most people were afraid to even look at Dumbledore, let alone freely express their anger toward him. He looked disbelievingly at Malfoy, opened his mouth to say something, and was, once again, cut short by Dumbledore.  
  
"Boys," he said, looking as though he could no longer contain his amusement, "as much as I'm sure you'll protest, I'm afraid you'll have to share a dormitory until Harry gets better." The old Headmaster was always vague when he spoke, but this took the cake.  
  
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a cacophony of remonstrance sounded throughout the room, mainly from the direction of Snape, Malfoy and Harry. Anthony Goldstien on the other hand, looked as thought he hit the gossip goldmine. That is, until he remembered his prefect status and realized that that was not the behavior expected of him, and his face fell.  
  
Dumbledore just looked on at the chaos, smiling at something only he could understand.  
  
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That's it for Three, Hope you enjoyed. I'll get the rest written soon, I promise. Sorry about that bit of a cliffhanger, but if I had gone any further you'd be waiting at least 2 more days for the chapter.  
  
Thanks again for reading. Any comments, good or bad, are appreciated. Let's me know someone is reading ~Yama Strife 


	4. The Odd Couple

Title: Salamander Scales Author: Yama Strife Rating: PG- for the use of the word "bitchiness" Summary: A botched potion screws up harry, it's all Malfoy's fault.etc etc. I'm sure if you're thinking it's cliché you're probably right, but oh well. Later chapters added later. Disclaimer: My name isn't J.K. Rowling, therefore, they aren't mine. Pairing: will eventually be Draco/Harry. That means boy/boy relationships. I'm sure you can read, so if you don't like that idea, go away. You can flame if you like, I don't mind. I'll just laugh at your stupidity and close-mindedness.  
  
This chapter still doesn't have an explanation, but it seems to me that everyone basically knows why Harry is sick, I meant to include it this time, it just didn't happen, sorry. (And I'm sorry if the Italics and bold text doesn't show up.it didn't in the first chapter either)  
  
`````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Salamander Scales: Chapter the Fourth: The Odd Couple  
  
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Harry followed closely behind Dobby the House-elf, wanting to stay as far away from Malfoy as possible while he still could. Dobby was leading Harry and Draco to their new quarters; a room just off the prefect's bathroom. Draco was begrudgingly following a few feet behind them, his usual grace and poise lagging. He wouldn't have been going had it not been for Snape asking him to. Malfoy didn't give a rat's behind about what Dumbledore said, or how Potter felt. After all, how was this his fault? He continued to shuffle his feet and stare at the ceiling (because a Malfoy never looked down when they walked) as they moved along.  
  
Harry was looking down at Dobby, who looked quite pleased with himself for being assigned such an important task. "Dobby is very sorry, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is very sorry indeed. If Dobby can do anything for Harry Potter, he must let Dobby know." Harry smiled at this and walked behind his little Captain until they came to an elaborate looking wooden door. It was a dark cherry wood and was carved intricately with a serpent and a lion facing inward. Harry shook his head in disgust, thinking it must've been Dumbledore's odd sense of humor.  
  
'No point in dwelling on a door,' he thought. A concern suddenly rose to the surface of his mind: If the door looked like this, what would the room itself look like?  
  
"The password is Dragon of Bad Faith, Harry Potter." Dobby said, interrupting Harry's horror ridden musings. Draco looked up as though someone had just called his name. He smiled in that superior way Harry hated, and shot Malfoy a look of disgust. Why should Malfoy be acting smug over something like a password? He decided to ignore this for now, said, "Dragon of Bad Faith," and the door swung open to reveal a dark room.  
  
Harry squinted, trying to make out something, anything; but all he could see were even darker shapes and shadows. Draco walked past Harry, knocking him roughly on the shoulder, and into the room. The moment he passed through the doors a giant fireplace to Draco's left sprung to life, and smaller torches along a dark, wooden paneled wall joined in with the fireplace, seemingly happy to be brought to life.  
  
Harry then smacked himself on the forehead at Dumbledore's -what he now called "sick"-sense of humor. The torches along the wall were of green and red flame. Three of the torches, these being red, were situated on the wall beside a deep, forest green silk canopy bed. The canopy was tied off at the four posts with a think black cord. And to the right of this was a deep burgundy red bed. The canopy to this was tied off with long, tasseled gold cord, and fastened to the wall beside this bed were three green flamed torches.  
  
Harry was glad that at least the fireplace gave off normal coloured light. The fireplace was of deep black marble, and reflected the light of the peculiar coloured torches eerily.  
  
Harry stepped further into the room, standing away from Draco, -hoping bitchiness wasn't contagious- and took in the deep cherry wood table in- between his, and Draco's beds. On it perched a silver pitcher and two silver goblets.  
  
There were two overstuffed chairs in front of the fire, both were black, but Dumbledore was obviously accommodating, and had them put in here with each boy's preference in mind. One chair, he assumed was Malfoy's, was a deep rich leather, (and had it been made of anything else, Harry also assumed, it wouldn't have been good enough for him), and the other, also black was softer and made of a comfy looking plush material. In front of the chairs was a high table with another lion and snake carved into it's top. Harry also noticed on the mantle of the fireplace were a few books. Wanting to keep with a theme, Dumblebore had placed bookends of the same silver colour as the pitcher and goblet on either end of the books. Harry wouldn't have even needed to look to know the bookends were in the form of a lion and serpent. 'He should've been an interior designer,' Harry thought bitterly, and with much sarcasm.  
  
Draco was first to break the silence. "I suppose this will be suitable," he said with a resigned sight. "The problem is the company I'm expected to keep." He sneered at Harry and sat in the leather chair, crossing his legs.  
  
Harry was outraged. "What do you mean, 'the company you're expected to keep'?" He glared fiercely, green eyes flashing behind glasses. "This is in no way my fault, Malfoy. I assure you, I'd rather be sipping tea with Voldemort than stay in a room with a slimy git like you." He stalked over to the red canopied bed and sat down in a huff, folding his arms and glaring, in what he hoped was a menacing fashion.  
  
Malfoy clucked his tongue and waved his finger in a reprimanding way at Harry. "Manners, Potter," he said, and then with a smirk crossing his face, "unless you'd rather I blast you into oblivion?" His tone of voice changed, and became rather hopeful, as though Harry would say "Okay Malfoy, blast me into oblivion."  
  
Harry sighed, and said instead (to Malfoy's disappointment); "I'm not scared of you, Malfoy." Harry lay back on his bed (finding his pillows to be the most comfortable thing he'd ever had the pleasure of lying on) and found himself wondering what was going on, and how exactly Malfoy was a part of this. He decided it would be best not to ask though. He didn't want to appear stupid or ignorant in front of him, he'd never hear the end of it. Especially since Malfoy was now his roommate.  
  
But Draco saved Harry this humiliation by asking in a sweetly sarcastic voice, "This may seem like a silly question, but what have you gone and done now, and why am I all of a sudden thrust into a room with you, without explanation?"  
  
Harry sat bolt upright and his face fell. "You mean you don't know? I thought they stuck you in here to help me fix whatever is wrong with me." He trailed off, a bemused expression crossing his face.  
  
Malfoy dropped the nice boy act, the fury apparent on his face. "What do you mean, I'm supposed to help you? I'd rather vacation with the Mudblood and the Weasel than help you, Scarhead!" He spat out venomously. He let out a small shudder, as though the thought of vacationing with his second least favourite people was enough to scar him for life.  
  
Harry was tired, he was sure it must've been past midnight. He was too tired to care Malfoy insulted his friends again, too tired to wonder if Madam Pomfrey had given him something as he slept to ease the pain. Harry didn't even bother checking the trunk at the end of his new bed to see if there were some pyjamas. He flopped back down on his stomach, face buried in his pillow. It may have looked like a suicide attempt, which would be understandable considering the circumstances. He let out a muffled "I'm going to sleep," and dozed off almost instantly.  
  
Malfoy either didn't hear him, or didn't care because he didn't even incline his head toward the comatose boy; he just stared into the fire long into the night.  
  
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Harry awoke to the same scene he had fallen asleep to. The silvery haired youth was sitting up in his leather chair, staring into the fire. Harry was wondering why he didn't move or even blink when he realized; "Oh no! Class! I'm going to be late for class!" He scrambled to get out of bed, but his foot caught on the silk sheet and he stumbled and fell right onto the hard wooden floor.  
  
Malfoy clucked his tongue in disbelief, wondering how anyone could be so clumsy. After watching the frantic boy run about the room, scatter brained and disoriented, looking for text books and dragon hide gloves for a minute or two, Malfoy decided the fun had worn off and said, "Sit down Potter. Honestly, are you so daft that you'd forgotten it's a Saturday? Besides," he added, "we've received a letter this morning saying we're to take all our classes and meals in this room." He stood up, almost eye-level with Harry, and said, "your filthy house-elf friend will be along to deliver breakfast any moment."  
  
Malfoy strode over to his bed, which had obviously not been slept in; oblivious to the dirty look he received from Harry, and pulled a small black book out of his robe pockets. He sat on his bed with his long legs crossed gracefully.  
  
Harry was curious as to what Malfoy was reading, but not curious enough to actually ask him. After all, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy didn't sit around and chat idly like friends.  
  
Even if Harry had wanted to ask Malfoy what the book was, he had missed his chance. A knock on the door and a mumbled phrase -the password, Harry assumed- told him that Dobby had arrived with breakfast.  
  
"Good morning, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby, his long pencil like nose touching the floor as he bowed. "Dobby has brought Harry Potter and Master Draco their breakfast, and a note from kind Headmaster Dumbledore." Dobby glanced at Draco, a member of the family he formerly served, but Draco just ignored him. A look of sadness appeared on Dobby's face for a fleeting moment, his green eyes looking rather wet, but he shook his head and looked up at Harry. "If the great Harry Potter needs anything, he just needs to ask Dobby," (Harry could've sworn he saw Malfoy roll his eyes). Dobby bowed again, set the trays containing their breakfast of sausage, porridge, toast and juice on the table and left, the door clicking lightly behind him.  
  
"Soup's on," Harry said, and sat on the floor in front of the table, placing a tray in front of himself and setting the other on the opposite side.  
  
He began to eat when Malfoy looked up from his book and said, "Well, what does the note say?" Cold grey eyes flashing impatiently at Harry.  
  
"Oh, right," said Harry sheepishly. He took the note off of Draco's tray and read, 'Boys, I'll be down later to talk to the both of you. Kindly stay in the room until then. You'll find your things have been placed in the trunks and wardrobe.  
  
Sincerely, Professor Dumbledore'."  
  
Harry looked at the last part again. He'd just been looking for his things earlier and they weren't there. He stood up, temporarily abandoning his breakfast and shuffled to his trunk. When he opened it he found the contents of his trunk from upstairs inside. Harry wondered at this until he realized that there was no wardrobe in this room. He scanned it briefly and discovered, next to the fireplace, a handsome cherry wood wardrobe. He stood there, staring stupidly until Malfoy said, sneering, "We're to stay in here? That means I'll have to put up with your stench until ol' Dumbledore lets you go take a shower."  
  
Harry was about to retort, knowing he didn't have a 'stench', when Malfoy pointed his wand squarely at Harry and said "scougify". Harry felt a little bit refreshed, Malfoy just smirked and said, "that'll have to do for now," before immersing himself back in the book.  
  
Harry felt mildly insulted (as he always did when Malfoy was around) but couldn't help but laugh a little at the way Malfoy had wrinkled his nose and looked highly affronted at having to stay in a room with an unwashed Potter.  
  
Harry went back to the table to eat and said, "Your breakfast is getting cold," as he started his first full day as Malfoy's roommate.  
  
``````````````````````````````````` Please tell me if you think I'm keeping people in character. If not, lemme know how to improve, and I'll try  
  
I can't thank everyone enough for their kind reviews and feedback. If you have a question, please ask, and I'll reply at the end of every chapter.  
  
Review Replies:  
  
Brenna8:LOL, I'm glad you know what Dumbledore knows. Every fangirl should anyway. ^_^ I love it when stuff bites Malfoy in the behind too. Draco's such a git, but we all love him anyway, don't we?  
  
RedMeadow: Thanks, I hope you like this chapter  
  
Morgan: I'm glad you enjoyed it!  
  
Akima: Ahhh.I want to know what happens next too, I don't have the whole story planned out yet.  
  
Yve: Sorry, I leave cliffhangers.it's a problem I'm currently seeking professional help for..(heh heh) I'm glad you're enjoying!  
  
Shelli: ahh you made me laugh with that cute review. Thanks a lot. I'll try to finish the interesting stuff before ending the chapter from now on.  
  
BluLightning: I'll try and get em out as fast as I can ^_^  
  
Kittylover16: Ahhh we'll get some Draco/Harry action soon, but first we have to build up a friendship, right? Hope you keep reading!  
  
Randomness: Thanks for letting me know, I appreciate it! I'm working on the next chapter as we speak!  
  
Jade the Dragon Mistress: Thanks a bunch hun! And I'm sorry for not actually writing the problem out totally, that'll happen in chapter 5!  
  
Thanks again everyone!  
  
~Yama Strife 


	5. Finally, the Truth

Title: Salamander Scales Chapter Five: Finally Author: Yama Strife Rating: PG for swearing Disclaimer: My name isn't J.K. Rowling, therefore, they aren't mine Summary: We finally find out what's going on in this chapter ^^ Notes: This is Chapter Five. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. Your comments are so kind. Thank you so much. I'm so sorry this is so late, but I got grounded, unfortunately, so I wasn't able to type and post this up. This will be the last chapter for a little while, because school is starting in a few days, and my computer time is limited. Harry is pretty OOC in this chapter, and I apologize for that. This is Slash. Eventual Harry/Draco. Don't like? Don't read. Flames are welcome, gives me a chance to laugh at your stupidity. You have been warned. (There are some slight slashy undertones in this chapter, just because I'm a jerk and I hadn't put any slash in it up until now. Harry calls Malfoy, Draco in this chapter too, cause that's so cute in my opinion) `````````````````````````````````````````  
  
Harry sat in his plush chair, looking around the room for lack of anything better to do. Dumbledore had not yet arrived to speak to the boys and Harry was having a hard job of passing the time. He was bored and there was absolutely nothing to do in here. He missed Ron and Hermione; he usually found something to do when they were around. Harry slouched down in his chair, the effort of sitting up properly finally getting to him.  
  
Harry was absolutely stuffed to bursting point after consuming not only his own, but Malfoy's breakfast as well. He did this out of boredom just as much as it was out of hunger. He couldn't think of anything else to preoccupy himself with anyway. Besides, Harry had noticed that Draco didn't eat much at breakfast, having glanced in that table's direction in the morning, purely to glare at Malfoy of course. And since he had completely ignored Harry when he'd warned him his breakfast was getting cold, Harry took the liberty of eating it himself. He received a baleful look and rolled eyes as response for this. It wasn't Harry's fault; he hadn't eaten for awhile. And, after all, constant mind numbing pain builds up an appetite.  
  
Harry looked in Malfoy's direction, who was still poised gracefully on the on his deep green bed, reading whatever was contained in the pages of that small black book. His face held a bemused expression and looked abnormally flesh-toned for Malfoy, who usually looked like white floor tile, in Harry's opinion. He chalked it up to the red torches on the wall beside Malfoy's bed.  
  
"What do you want, Potter? I know I'm attractive, but your constant staring is annoying me," said Malfoy bluntly, his eyes never leaving the page of his book.  
  
Harry flushed slightly -glad Malfoy wasn't looking up to see his face turn red- and remembering why he disliked Malfoy so much, he sat up-much to the dismay of his stomach- and said, "I was just noticing your roots are going dark. Forget to dye your hair this week Malfoy?" Harry said, in a sneer rivaling the most impressive of Malfoy sneers.  
  
Malfoy looked up toward his forehead for a split second before realizing that a) he couldn't see his roots and b) he didn't dye his hair to begin with. It was naturally this beautiful silver-blonde colour.  
  
"You're just jealous that not everyone walks around with a black mop attached to their head Potter," he said, smirking. His eyes returned their attention to the book.  
  
Harry bristled slightly, and deciding that this argument could go on forever, and not wanting to take part in it, he shrugged and slouched back in his chair. Resting his cheek on his palm, he focused his eyes on the carpet and let out a loud sigh.  
  
"Would you quit your moaning and groaning Potter? It really is quite annoying, not that I'd expect any different from you." He curled his lip and glared in a manner that could melt the plaster off walls, but Harry was used to getting this look at least three times a day, and it didn't phase him.  
  
"Ah, you can't multitask very well, can you Malfoy? Imagine, using your eyes and ears at the same time. Must be some sort of sensory overload." He shot Malfoy a dirty look before turning his attention to the fire and saying quietly, "What would you know anyway?" He shuffled his feet a bit on the carpet, causing his socks to make floppy tails at the front.  
  
Draco smirked. "Quite a bit actually; more than you'll ever know in any case. Like the fact that you look even more imbecilic when your socks are falling off." He curled his lip distastefully. "But maybe you think that's an endearing look, hmm?" And realizing how much Potter bored him, he picked up his book to continue reading, but not before shooting out, "After all, I can read, and it seems that you haven't mastered that skill yet, otherwise you might be able to entertain yourself in a less aggravating way." He shifted his body so one leg was draped over the edge of the bed, the other still curled under his body.  
  
Harry turned to sit sideways in his chair, his legs hanging over the arm so he could look at Malfoy without craning his neck around painfully. "What are you reading anyway?" Harry asked, curiosity piqued. "It must be horribly interesting for you to keep your nose practically glued to the page." He eyed the black cover, wondering momentarily if it contained Dark magic.  
  
Malfoy ran a hand through his pale hair in frustration, and act normally unseen by a Malfoy. Draco didn't care right now though, considering he had yet to clean and style his silvery blonde locks.  
  
He looked at Harry and saw an accusational expression flit across the darker boy's features for a moment, and he knew what The-Boy-Who-Lived was thinking. He sighed for what felt like the millionth time that morning and rolled his eyes. "Scar-head, you idiot." He shook his head in disbelief. "Do you think I'd be fool enough to brush up on my Dark Arts right under Dumbledore's long crooked nose?"  
  
Harry gasped and his eyes widened. "You mean you really do practice -"  
  
"I was being sarcastic you -"  
  
"-Dark Arts? I mean, we all thought you'd have some training, but-"  
  
"Idiot." Malfoy sighed, "Oh sod off you stupid git."  
  
"-We weren't really sure."  
  
Malfoy had obviously had enough of his company's assertion and stupidity. Harry didn't even notice Malfoy stand up and walk deftly over to him, so lost in his rant was he. Draco wondered how anyone could be idiotic enough to not spot the obvious sarcasm in his voice, but then he realized that this was Potter he was dealing with, and of course he was asinine enough to miss it. Malfoy came to stand in front of Harry, who had moved to sit on his knees to shout at him.  
  
When he finally noticed that Malfoy was standing directly in front of him, he glared fiercely and waved his arms to show just how strongly he felt, along with his continuing rant of, "Kick you out of school" and a mention of "Azkaban" here and there.  
  
Malfoy looked at Harry in a pitying sort of way, feeling as rueful as a Malfoy could manage. He felt sorry that anyone could be so completely daft. With that thought in mind he thrust his hand in between Harry's flailing arms and he flicked Harry right in the center of the forehead.  
  
Harry stopped yelling abruptly and blinked. It seemed that he was in a small state of shock. After all, he surely couldn't have been expecting to be flicked on the head, least of all by Malfoy of all people.  
  
"Oh shut your mouth, you great lump. You look like a fish out of water," He said in his aristocratic drawl. Malfoy turned and stalked back to his bed where he lay down on his back and stared up at the green canopy above his head.  
  
Harry, it seemed, gained back the use of his tongue, after sitting speechlessly for a minute or so, but the only thing he could manage to say was, "What did you do that for?" Blinking rather rapidly and looking quite insulted.  
  
Draco simply said, "You deserved it," in a bored voice, typical of Malfoy.  
  
Harry stood up suddenly; realizing revenge was in order. He stomped over to Draco's bed, no doubt trying to sound as if impending doom were finding its way to Malfoy. But the effect was lost by his softened footsteps, courtesy of homemade Weasley woolly socks. He stood at the side of Malfoy's bed and stared down at the bored looking boy. "What do you mean I deserved it?" He asked indignantly.  
  
Malfoy continued to look at the canopy. "You were blathering on like an idiot, and I was far from annoyed." Draco stated, shrugging. "I mean, honestly Potter, as if I'd practice the Dark Arts." He looked at Harry as though he was a stupid child one has grown tired of baby-sitting.  
  
"Well, you didn't have to flick me," Harry said, touching the offending spot on his forehead. "In fact." He trailed off, a strange glint in his eyes, "I think you ought to be taught a lesson," He continued, leaning in dangerously close to Draco.  
  
Draco blinked, confused as to why Harry was suddenly so close. He tried to back away, realizing he couldn't because he was lying on his back, practically trapped. He could feel Harry's breath on his face, lifting his hair gently, moving and tickling his forehead. He flushed in embarrassment and shifted slightly to his right.  
  
He was preoccupied with hoping that Harry didn't notice the heat building up on his cheeks. So preoccupied he didn't notice Harry raise his hand-  
  
Harry flicked Malfoy on the tip on his pale pointed nose and he darted back across the room before practically diving onto his over-stuffed chair. Draco's flush of embarrassment turned to one of anger as he sat up stiffly and spluttered, "Wha- what in the hell do you think you're doing Potter?" He stood up strode angrily to Harry's side. His hair was mussed in the back and the pink tinge on his face was growing darker. Harry actually found this all quite amusing. Draco drew himself to his full height -Harry would've noticed the boy was on his tiptoes, but he wasn't focusing on his feet- and glared down at Harry, breathing through his nose like an angry bull being teased by a matador. He glared so fiercely, it could've been a new record for intimidation, after all; no one touched a Malfoy and got away with it. Especially when it was an act of abuse (albeit a rather childish one).  
  
Realizing that he hadn't gotten across how angry he was, he said, "I loathe you, Potter," in a deep throaty growl. He decided to prove this point by thwaping Harry across the back of the head.  
  
Harry flinched, one eye shut, the other looking up at Malfoy. He brought his hand up to rub the spot Malfoy had just whacked. Harry normally, would've been furious, had he not been mildly amused by the whole fiasco. Malfoy was acting like a prissy, spoiled little girl, not at all the calm and cool demeanor he was used to. He noticed that Malfoy's breathing had quieted, and would've finished this fiasco with an insult or two, like most of their fights, but he couldn't help himself. Harry snorted with laughter.  
  
Malfoy, on the other hand, was not amused in the slightest. "What are you laughing at Potter?" He shouted, stomping his foot -his poised and aristocratic air forgotten. "I hate you, you stupid Scar-head- get out of my sight immediately!" He pointed toward the large wooden doors on the other side of the room.  
  
Harry just doubled over in his chair, tears of mirth pricking the corner of his eyes, and threatening to fall any moment. "Oh my Gawd Draco, you're acting like such a spoiled little girl," he managed to get out between small spurts of laughter.  
  
This was not at all the reaction Malfoy had hoped for. His house elves and any other Slytherin would've been happy to get away from his wrath at this point. They wouldn't laugh openly at his face. He was seriously pissed; no one laughed at Draco Malfoy and got away with it. He grabbed Harry's shoulders and was about to shake some sense into him when those aforementioned doors opened and Dumbledore strolled in.  
  
Draco froze, hands still gripping Harry's shoulders, his face flushed, mere inches from the other boy's, and breathing heavily. He realized how this must look to the older man and the colour, still gracing Draco's face intensified. Dumbledore coughed slightly and smiled. "It's good to see you two getting on well. I was hoping I wouldn't have to call a funeral home, and it seems that they weren't vain hopes at all."  
  
Draco jumped back and put his hands stiffly at his sides, trying his best to look like his superior self, despite the fact that he was embarrassed beyond anything he'd ever felt -aside from the bouncing ferret incident, but Draco didn't like to talk about that. Malfoy cleared his throat and tried desperately to get his thoughts back in order.  
  
Harry straightened up, still emitting small giggles here and there and said, "Oh, yes, we're getting along brilliantly, Professor Dumbledore, sir," with only a slight hint of sarcasm apparent in his voice. Harry risked taking a small glance at Draco and noticed him attempting to suppress small shivers of rage, and smiled again.  
  
Dumbledore watched this exchange with obvious amusement before asking, a small twinkle in his blue eyes, "How are you feeling today Harry?"  
  
Harry snorted, attempting to keep back a laugh threatening to escape and said, "My head is a bit sore, but the chest pains are gone thanks." He rubbed the back of his head again, and Malfoy smirked triumphantly.  
  
"Ah, well then Harry, Draco, our suspicions were indeed correct, and it's a good thing too. If we had diagnosed you improperly Harry, you may have died by now for all we know." He smiled slightly, his beard twitching and Harry was once again reminded that Dumbledore was slightly mad.  
  
"In any case," said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together. "Enough with the formalities, shall we sit down boys?" he pulled a wand out of his deep blue robes and waved it, a large comfortable seat appearing between Draco and Harry's chairs.  
  
After Dumbledore made his way to his chair and sat down, he looked around and asked in a pleasant tone, "I hope you find the furnishings to your liking?" He smiled, "I designed the room myself," he added, obviously proud of himself.  
  
Harry opened his mouth, and was about to comment on how unfunny he thought the theme of snakes and lions was, considering this was the last person he'd want to stuck in a room with -with the exception of Snape, or possibly Lockhart - but Draco sighed impatiently, and both Harry and the Headmaster got the message.  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "Very well then," before resting his chin on long interlocked fingers and observing them from under silvery bushy eyebrows.  
  
"As I'm sure you both know, Harry is quite sick, though his attitude would show otherwise," said Dumbledore, a twitch playing on his lips. "The question you both want answered, I'm sure is; 'what exactly is wrong with Harry, and how does this involve you, Mr. Malfoy?' But I think Draco, that you may be able to tell us what happened better than I would. Would you kindly explain what happened yesterday in Potions class?"  
  
Draco's eyes widened and he sat up rigidly. He couldn't believe he was being blamed for whatever was wrong with Potter. He crossed his arms and looked at Dumbledore, a challenge in his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. There isn't anything to explain."  
  
Harry broke into the conversation angrily, rage apparent in his eyes. "What did you do in Potions Malfoy? I thought you were acting funny, more so than usual." He shot a venomous look at Malfoy. "What the hell did you do?" He growled.  
  
"I didn't do shit Potter, watch who you're accusing, if you know what's good for you." He shot back. His hands were gripping the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles were turning white.  
  
"Now, now boys," Dumbledore interjected. 'Watch your language, if you please. And Draco, no one is accusing you of anything, we just want to understand if you know anything about the potion Mr. Potter ingested on Friday." He said calmly, though he was afraid that sparks might start flying out of the rival's' eyes and the room would catch on fire.  
  
"I don't know anything." Draco repeated simply. And he looked as though he meant it, but Malfoys were raised to lie convincingly at the drop of a hat. Harry wasn't convinced.  
  
"Well then, I'll explain the best I can." Dumbledore sighed. "But where to begin."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
"Harry, it seems that your fire protection spell worked, but in a different way than intended. You see, the main ingredient in this potion is the Fire Salamander Scales. They provide the outer layer of protection from the fire, you see?"  
  
Harry nodded, understanding thus far, and he leaned forward in his chair so he didn't miss a word.  
  
"It seems that since Draco used personal scales-I'm assuming from a pet Fire Salamander- it had a different effect."  
  
Draco's eyebrows were lost in his hairline, and he gasped quietly. Harry raised his eyebrows and said, "But what does it matter?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "You see, Harry, you are supposed to use impersonal scales in this potion; meaning scales from a Fire Salamander that you don't know, or have no connection to. Wild Fire Salamanders in other words, so no connection is made between potion maker, and tester."  
  
Harry just shook his head in confusion.  
  
"Let me put it simply."  
  
"Yes, please do." Draco said, rolling his eyes.  
  
Dumbledore ignored this comment and continued. "Because Draco's own scales were used, it created a bond between you and He. The other ingredients took effect and created.shall we say, and "internal fire" of sorts inside of you. That's the pain you were feeling, this 'fire' in your chest. But because Draco's scales were used, it seems they take on a protective property when Draco is around you, and 'extinguish' the fire temporarily, as long as he is around."  
  
Harry began to say something, but Dumbledore help up a hand and continued.  
  
"This is something that has rarely happened in magical history, thankfully, Professor Snape recognized the signs after reading a most interesting article. It was written by a nice old chap, we'd met before during a friendly game of disappearing poker in the old Hog's Head - " He stopped, and noticed Harry and Malfoy sitting, eyes wide in disbelief. He cleared his throat and continued. "So we are all puzzled as to how this can be cured. This is why the two of you are to stay together until we figure out how to fix it." He finished his explanation here, and closed his eyes.  
  
Draco simply said, "Damn it to hell." But it seemed that Harry didn't know what to say. After a moment of heavy silence, he rounded on Draco and said, "Why the hell did you use scales from your precious pet, if you knew you weren't supposed to, you stupid ass?" He was fuming, and his face was flushed with anger.  
  
Draco shrugged. "I wanted to see what would happen. I certainly wasn't expecting bad side effects. Besides, I'm more upset about this than you are. Do you think I ever want to be anywhere near your ugly face Potter? So watch your temper."  
  
"Is there anything you want to ask me, boys?" Dumbledore asked, for once at a loss for words.  
  
"I have a question, sir," said Harry quietly. "Can we change any laws against murdering another wizard temporarily? Because I'm feeling homicidal."  
  
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Sorry to leave it here, but I hope it was semi-slashy enough. Considering they're still "enemies" in this chapter, I thought it was pretty slashy. Next chapter should be up in probably 2 weeks or so, If I can find the time with school and stuff.  
  
I hope I explained the side effects and the cause for Harry being sick well enough. If you still have questions, ask with that little review button, and I will explain the best I can (unless that part is still supposed to be a mystery ^^)  
  
Review Responses:  
  
Brenna8: Ahh Dumbledore is crazy eh? I hope Dragon nose flicking tides you over for now! "Bad Draco!! Bad!!"  
  
lemonaddict: thanks for waiting so patiently for the update. Next chapter I'll try and get them on the road to friendship, and we'll have appearances from Ron, Hermione and maybe Pansy. So lots of action will take place ^^  
  
PadfootsNoxed: ahh I know..it was kind of a boring chapter, but I'll make up for it with the next few chapters. Hope you like them!  
  
ddz008: Thank you so much!! ::hugs:: I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! In the next chapter we'll get to see the reaction they have better, when it finally sinks in!  
  
pari106: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Thanks! I drew lots of designs of the room before I described it, just so it stays consistent. I may post a link to some of the pictures in upcoming chapters, if anyone wants to see how I've pictured the room in my mind. Thanks for the lovely review!  
  
OnlyHAUNTED: ::giant hugs:: you are such a sweetheart! I almost died laughing your review was so sweet and funny! I'm sorry about all the cliffhangers.it seems no matter how hard I try not to write them, they happen anyway -_- And yes, Draco is going to be very upset and the loss of his social life.but after he realizes he has control of Harry's emotions and physical heath.he may use it to his advantage! Heh heh.  
  
Thanks again! Stay tuned for Chapter 6! 


	6. Truce!

First off, I'm seriously annoyed that this Author crap at the beginning doesn't stay spaced the way it's supposed to. Title: Salamander Scales Chapter 6: Truce! Author: Yama Strife Rating: PG-13 for swearing and.well, that's it, but I may as well up the rating in preparation for later chapters. Disclaimer: My name isn't J.K. Rowling, therefore, they aren't mine Summary: A truce and an awkward friendship begins between our protagonists.  
  
Notes: Your comments are so kind. Thank you so much ::smiles:: Draco is very OOC, but we need that or they'd never be friends (stubborn Draco). This is Slash. Eventual Harry/Draco. Don't like? Don't read. Flames are welcome, gives me a chance to laugh at your stupidity. You have been warned. There is some pretty blatant pre-slash in this chapter and Harry's in a towel. Fun for all ages. Enjoy!  
  
Salamander Scales, Part 6 ````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Dumbledore thought it would be best if he stayed in the room with Harry and Draco for a few minutes. He was worried for Draco's well being after the explosion that was The-Boy-Who-Was-Angry's temper.  
  
As much as Dumbledore loved his soap operas, he didn't think that Hogwarts was suited as such. (Though the school did a good job imitating them at times). He didn't want a murder taking place, in any case, and he knew that if blood were to soak into the hardwood floors, it would be almost impossible to remove. Even with his magical skills. (Not that he knew first hand or anything.). Instead he conjured up a tea tray and urged Harry and Draco to sit. Both with a hefty dose of Bota Brand calming powder. (There was enough to calm a stampede of elephants in Harry's cup).  
  
After they drank the tea down with some hot buttered biscuits, Harry was indeed, calmed down. Dumbledore, seeing his job was done for the moment, stood up to leave the room. He had work of his own that needed to be done, and he figured it was now safe enough to leave the boys to their own devices.  
  
Both Harry and Malfoy, feeling slightly cooled off -Draco no more fearing for his life- were siting quietly in front of the fire, in an only slightly uncomfortable silence.  
  
Harry ran a fingernail across the arm of his chair, watching the colour change slightly as the fibres shifted, from a grey-black, to a deeper, dull shade of black. As he ran his finger back across, to flatten it again, he discovered it went back to its original colour, much like any other furniture of this plush material. But it was fair to say Harry hadn't experienced a wide variety of coverings in his short life. His couch at Privet Drive was yellowish plaid, and very itchy, and the chairs in the common room were so old, it was hard to tell if there was even a cover on them at all anymore.  
  
He was writing his name, almost mindlessly, caught up in thoughts he wasn't even aware he was thinking when Draco spoke to him.  
  
"What do you propose we do now, Scar-head? Now that we know why I'm confined to this God-forsaken place." He raised his chin haughtily as he said this, as if in challenge.  
  
Harry didn't look up. He continued to focus on the "H-A-R" he was writing on the couch, and he was intent on finishing it. Apparently his calming draught was working-maybe a little too well. "I refuse to talk to you until you're at least civil. It's the very least you owe me." He looked at Malfoy for just a moment before going back to his mindless creation on the arm of the couch.  
  
Draco smirked disdainfully at this, and he said, obviously amused to some degree, "Talk nicely to you Potter? And upset the cosmic balance we've all become used to? Not likely. I'm afraid Malfoys don't speak nicely to Potters, or anyone beneath them, for that matter. His expression changed to one of superiority, and slight disgust at the idea of being nice. "I don't owe you anything, Mop-boy. Do get over yourself." Harry sighed and shook his head. He was not looking forward to two weeks, or possibly more, of this. He couldn't stand it, but he was just too tired to retaliate. "You'll never change, will you? It's a pity."  
  
Draco simply shrugged and shot Harry his patented snobby Malfoy smirk. "Why mess with perfection, I daresay."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
"I'm being serious Malfoy. If we're going to be stuck in this room-" he waved his arm around, possibly so that Draco knew exactly which room he was talking about, "-for two weeks, at least, don't you at least think you could try to be courteous?"  
  
He looked Malfoy right in his pale eyes and saw, once again; those impenetrable walls build up.  
  
Draco turned away from the gaze, feeling rather uncomfortable with Harry's eyes boring into his own. He could usually out-stare anyone, but there was something about Saint Potter that unnerved him. "That sounds so one sided Potter. I should be civilized? I'm a perfect gentleman, at least to the people who matter." He shot Harry a contemptuous glare. "You on the other hand, running about the school, shouting savagely, having little adventures." He looked at Harry's robe. "And dressing like some sort of Neanderthal." He made a little sound of disgust in the back of his throat.  
  
Harry threw up his hands in defeat. Malfoy was a hopeless cause. "This is exactly what I was talking about!" He shouted. "At least I'm willing to try!"  
  
Draco gave him a look that made him retract his previous statement. "Don't get me wrong. I don't want to be your friend, I just want a temporary truce," Harry made clear.  
  
Draco said something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Who wouldn't want to be my friend, I ask you." He looked up, and with a sneer firmly in place, he said, "Why should I?"  
  
Harry grinned wickedly, a sight rarely seen. "To save your own arse from getting kicked. It's the least you deserve for what you did."  
  
Draco snorted at the utter foolishness of this announcement. Image, Potter thinking he could beat up Draco Malfoy. He crossed his arms and sitting up as tall as he could, he looked down at Harry in the most intimidating way he could muster.  
  
But.on the other hand, Malfoys were always looking for a challenge, and he thought that being buddy-buddy with the scar head could have its advantages. Draco's cunning mind started working in overdrive, but he was brought out of his thoughts by Harry.  
  
"So, what do you say? Temporary truce?" He reached his hand across the gap between them so Draco could shake.  
  
Malfoy shrugged, trying to look nonchalant about the whole thing. "Why not? Though, don't expect me to touch you again, after this handshake. I don't know where you've been after all." He smirked and reluctantly took Harry's hand.  
  
They shook and the blond boy said, "And my first act as a 'member' of this truce will be to inform you to shower as soon as possible. I'm sure it's safe to use the bathroom now."  
  
Harry snatched his hand away from Draco's and glared. "This is going to take some work," he said, as he headed out toward the Prefect's bathroom. (Harry had discovered this new door earlier that morning, and had seen that it led directly to the prefect's bathroom, conveniently enough.  
  
"I couldn't agree more," said Draco, as Harry made his way out of the room. ``````````````````````````````````````  
  
While Harry was out in the shower, Draco had moved back to his bed. He was lying about, reprimanding himself for his quick decision. What good could possibly come from Draco befriending Potter when there wasn't anything or anyone around. It was just the two of them in a room; he couldn't use Potter for anything here. What good could Harry do for him in a room for two weeks? Besides things like gossip and whatnot. But Draco considered himself above such nonsense anyway.  
  
He sighed and moved from his stomach to his back. He was hungry, and lying on his stomach was just giving him cramps. Draco damned himself for not thinking this through more thoroughly. He folded his arms behind his head and bent his knees toward his chest. He couldn't think of one single advantage to this stupid truce now. Potter used to be a slight source of amusement. He was never as quick as his fair-haired counterpart, and Draco had lost that. Now he had to be - he shuddered- nice to Harry Potter.  
  
A sudden knock at the door shook Draco from his thoughts and he sat up. Who in the world could that have been? He sat up and padded toward the door to open it, fearing it could be Dumbledore, back for more. He paused and realized that Dumbledore could just walk in, as he had set the password.  
  
"Drrraaaaakey." A girl's voice came from behind the door, carrying a tone that could be labeled as 'insufferably whiney'.  
  
Draco stopped dead in his tracks, as though a step further could make him susceptible to some serious harm -understandably, it probably could- and the voice came yet again; if possible, sounding more coddling and annoyingly babyish that the last time. "Drakey dear, open up. It's Pansy!"  
  
Draco looked around the room in desperation, hoping for anything to give him inspiration to get rid of the pug-faced blight on his life. How could a person not realize how annoying they were? If it were anyone, he'd just tell them to get lost and be done with it. This was a special case. The Parkinsons were good friends of the Malfoys, and if his Father got word Draco had been rude to Pansy, there would be hell to pay.  
  
"Erm- hold on Parkinson. I'll be there in a moment." He gulped; he was, for once, at a loss for what to do.  
  
Then Harry walked back in. In a towel, no less. Draco was temporarily stunned, to see Harry walk in still soaking wet. Water droplets were forming at the tips of his hair, which had curled slightly from the humidity of the shower. His body was lightly muscled, and he retained the slight build that made him such a successful seeker. Draco was witnessing what no less than one million screaming girls (and in some case, boys) would kill to see.  
  
Pansy's screeching interrupted Draco's train of thought once again. "Are you okay, Drakey? Are you hurt? Did that filthy Potter do something to you?"  
  
A thought hit him suddenly. It would scar him severely for life, but it might just rid him of Pansy for a week or so. It had to be done.  
  
He ran across the room and yanked open the door as fast as one could yank a 200 pound door, and was greeted by a girl with a visage resembling a flat- faced pug latching onto his arm.  
  
"Ooh, Drakey I'm glad you're okay. I've missed you and-"  
  
She stopped suddenly when she noticed Harry in the towel looking confused and blushing slightly, now that everyone's attention was focused on him. Pansy glowered, and looked from Harry to Draco and said, the sugar gone from her voice, "What's going on Draco?"  
  
Draco thought it was obvious that Harry had just gotten out of the shower, but Pansy wasn't known for her brains. But, instead of saying this, he frowned slightly, (being an accomplished thespian) and said, "Pansy, you'd better let go of my arm, I've got something important to tell you." He tried his best to look thoroughly upset when she detached herself reluctantly. "Stay here a moment." Draco walked back across the room and grabbed Harry's hand. He hissed, "Help me by just staying quiet," in Harry's ear and dragged Harry back over to Pansy. Draco almost smiled as he thought that he'd have to get someone to surgically remove Pansy's chin from the floor. The sight of Draco leading Harry around by the hand would shock anyone, he figured.  
  
When they reached her, he didn't let go either. "You see Pansy, and don't tell anyone this, but I trust you completely." He gave her his most winning smile, and saw her practically swoon. He tapped the side of his nose with his free hand. "I'm sure you've heard rumors about Potter here being sick, eh?"  
  
Pansy nodded.  
  
"Well, you see, none of them are exactly true. Dumbledore is making up those stories to save Potter's skin here."  
  
Pansy scowled.  
  
"Potter really ingested a love potion, and the object of his affection is, as you may have guessed, me." He leaned over to whisper, "that's why you had to let go of me, he gets really jealous."  
  
Harry heard this and blushed slightly. His eyes widened almost comically after being told that Draco was the object of his affection, but he stayed quiet. He desperately wanted to get out of there and put on some clothes, he thought his towel was slipping, but Draco held his hand fast.  
  
"And you see Pansy, when Harry here gets jealous, he gets violent. You know how Potter is," he continued. "And so I don't want to put your health in danger."  
  
"So why do you have to stay here Draco?" Pansy asked quietly, not wanting to enrage a possibly insane Potter.  
  
"Well," Draco waved a dismissive hand. "You know how Dumbledore is. He didn't want his Golden-boy to have to live without his darling dear; Me. So I'm stuck here."  
  
"Why can't you just leave?" she asked in a low voice.  
  
Draco pulled his face into an angry expression. "They said I'd be expelled if I didn't. Dumbledore is such a menace, he ought to be kicked out."  
  
Harry made a sound of protest, but Draco quickly covered. He patted Harry's hand, and said in a falsely intimidated voice, "It's okay, she'll leave soon Harry, don't get angry."  
  
Harry glowered and Pansy looked terrified. Draco leaned over to whisper again. "So for your own health Pansy, I'd recommend staying away from here for a little while. And please, keep this a secret, and go along with whatever Dumbledore is saying. If they found out I'd told you the truth, they might expel me." He let out a huge sigh, as though this could be a fate worse than death.  
  
Pansy made to pat him on the shoulder, or hug him, but seeing Harry standing right there, and not wanting to get savagely beaten, she nodded weakly instead. "Of course I won't tell Drakey, you have my word." She whispered in an undertone, "Poor Drakey, leave it to a disgusting Half- blood to pull something like that."  
  
Draco gave her that knee-weakening smile again, and she turned on her heel and stalked off.  
  
When she got out of sight Malfoy laughed out loud. A real laugh, Harry had never heard it before. It was rich and friendly sounding, and he was surprised Draco could sound like anything close to friendly. "Oh, the stupid girl actual fell for that. You're a lifesaver Potter. Even though you didn't do anything."  
  
Harry-still red- said, "That's nice, now can I have my hand back before I lose my towel?"  
  
But before his request was granted, Ron and Hermione appeared at the door, having the same idea as Pansy and wanting to visit their friend. Though in this case, it was Harry. But nothing could prepare them for what they saw.  
  
Harry, dripping wet and in a towel, blushing madly and holding hands with a happy looking, laughing Malfoy.  
  
Ron said nothing. He stood there, spluttering and looking for words that wouldn't come, Hermione's tongue, on the other hand worked fine.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
Malfoy dropped Harry's hand as though it were on fire, and the both of them snapped their heads to see the two standing there, shock and possibly disgust, in Ron's case, written on their faces.  
  
"Er- it's not what it looks like 'Mione," Harry supplied weakly, his face darkening three shades.  
  
Hermione crossed her arms and awaited an explanation.  
  
`````````````````````````````````````````````````````  
  
AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH CLIFFHANGER! I'm so sorry you guys, but that's all I have time to write. Next chapter in another week or two! (Sorry about the extreme OOC-ness in Draco. He was too nice I think).  
  
Review Responses:  
  
Brenna8: first off, you're so awesome, you've reviewed like, every chapter so far. That's so great ::gives you a cookie:: ya the flicking was silly, but I had to add it, it made me giggle.  
  
onlyHAUNTED: ::giant hugs:: you are so KYUTE!! I giggle every time I read that. I'm glad you're having fun reading, cause I'm having fun writing! I agree, school is seriously bogus. ::Kicks the school system::  
  
PadfootsNoxed: I'm glad you like! I'm whipping these out as fast as I can. Sorry about the cliffhanger!  
  
Shelli: I'm glad you think they're in character. I think they slip sometimes, but I do the best I can. Dumbledore is so fun to write, always going off on a tangent, and being so old-man cute. lol  
  
Emeline: Teehee. I'm glad you think it's GREAT!! ^^ and I will continue, I wouldn't just stop writing the fic to torture you. That'd be mean! Heehee  
  
ddz008: I'm glad you like the arguments. I see Draco as really sarcastic and witty, which will make conversations pretty funny. I hope you think it's feasible, the way I made them become friends :D  
  
Fire Stone: lol the head flicking thing was really funny in my head. I hope you didn't think it was too corny. I'm sorry, I know the slash is taking forever, but I want it to be a believable story, and so I have to build up their relationship gradually. There will be lots of slash in the future, promise! (and Draco may run away to get things out of Harry he wants.he's devious he is.)  
  
lemonaddict: I'm glad you liked it! That's a huge compliment coming from you, since I am one of your biggest fans! ^^  
  
Assassin: I'm glad you liked the idea. I hope it wasn't too out of character! Bye!  
  
melinda: heehee, I like your enthusiasm. I'm getting them out as fast as I can. I just don't want to write them too quickly and substitute quality for speed. Hope you don't mind ^^  
  
wizardingwitch: haha ::gives you a cookie too:: I'm glad you not only like it, but you "love" it?? Heehee I hope you can wait another week or two for the next installment.  
  
More reviews are always appreciated. ::points to the review button:: 


	7. Lies and Shopping

Salamander Scales-Chapter 7: Lies and Shopping Author Yama Strife Rating PG Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter or any associated characters. Same for Lord of the Flies. Notes: I want to sincerely apologize for the long wait. I don't want to make excuses, but sometimes life interferes with my ability to use my computer. My grandma recently visited for 2 weeks, and I've just had my appendix removed. This has hindered me somewhat. So while the story had been written it hadn't been typed. I am sorry and I hope that the long wait doesn't turn you off the story and you will continue to read.  
  
The main purpose of this chapter it to establish a relation between the boys, a friendly one. To get them out in the world (literally outside) so they can become closer, a sort of dependency thing. No slash yet.smaller hints of what is to come, most likely in the next chapter.  
  
'...' Indicates thought. "..." Indicates speech. ````````````````````````````````````````  
  
"What's going on?". Hermione crossed her arms and awaited an explanation.  
  
Harry couldn't think of a time when he'd been quite so embarrassed. Being chased up a tree by his Aunt Marge's dog didn't even come close to this.  
  
Hermione stood there in front of Harry, arms still folded and looking considerably cross. Ron had slumped against the wall opposite Harry's doorway. At any other situation Harry may have found this reaction amusing, though it did not completely surprise him that Ron's body had failed him and he'd gone into total shock.  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably under the scrutinous gaze of Hermione. He opened his mouth to explain exactly what had happened, looking around for help from something, an excuse for why he was in this position, until he glanced toward Draco and saw the expression mounted on his face. He was looking almost expectantly at Harry, although he knew that Harry would explain, as though he was a child, trying to get out of trouble from his Mother. The expression said to Harry, 'That's right, be the perfect little Golden Boy like usual,' and Harry hated it. And under it there was maybe, disappointment? Anger? Draco noticed Harry looking at him and put on the patented Malfoy sneer and Harry was almost saddened to see it.  
  
Harry thought about the countenance Draco had displayed and found himself with conflicting ideas. 'Why do I care what Malfoy thinks?' he asked himself. Then the thought, 'Maybe I should tell Hermione and Ron to leave.' These, and other things flew through his head violently until he stopped at a decision. Harry would never figure out why he had come to this conclusion, but he closed his mouth and shook his head.  
  
Harry loved Hermione dearly, and he didn't like to lie, but something began to rise inside of him, almost a desire to defy his friends. To rebel against the normal rules and boundaries he set for his life. Hermione always told him what to do. She was, well, his conscience. But tonight, Harry wasn't going to listen.  
  
Harry crossed his arms and mimicked Hermione's offensive stance. He lifted his chin, almost as though guarding something precious behind him. "Nothing is going on Hermione," Harry stated nonchalantly, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. "Draco and I were just discussing our living arrangements, no need to concern yourself."  
  
Hermione couldn't have been more shocked had she been told she'd failed all her classes. Her arms dropped to her sides and she took a step back. She felt insulted and betrayed, but her foremost thought was, 'Draco? Did Harry just call him Draco?'  
  
She looked down, unable to meet Harry's eyes and said quietly, "I'm sorry Harry, Ron and I were just concerned, we felt we weren't being very supportive. We weren't able to bring you supper in the hospital wing as we'd promised and we wanted to check on you and apologize." Tears began to well in Hermione's eyes. "I didn't mean to upset you." she finished, and she brushed at her face to wipe away any stray tears. Hermione had enough experience with Harry's temper in previous years and she didn't want to provoke him. But what she couldn't wrap her mind around was Harry defending Malfoy. When had this change taken place?  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, though unsure of what to say when Ron stood up and walked past her. He stepped into the doorway and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. He seemed to have finally recovered a semblance of his voice and enter a lesser state of shock. He said, as though speaking to an ill, confused person, "Harry, Mate; are you sure you don't need to lie down or something?"  
  
Harry's eyes softened. Ron was a wonderful friend and he didn't want to lose him again as he almost had in Fourth Year. He placed a hand over the one residing on his shoulder and said simply, "I'm fine Ron. Thanks for coming to see me, but I'm not really supposed to have visitors yet."  
  
Harry didn't want to lie and he was sure Dumbledore wouldn't object to Ron and Hermione visiting but he just didn't want to see them right now. He couldn't explain it he just thought he was going crazy. Who wouldn't want the people they loved most around at a time like this?  
  
Ron - even with the emotional range of a teaspoon - knew something was up, but he decided not to press. Harry had been through so much in his life that he knew what was best. Ron squeezed Harry's shoulder, nodded and said, "We'll be going now Harry, we'll drop by in a day or so to see how you're doing, okay?"  
  
Harry could've kissed Ron. He understood Harry, even when Harry didn't understand himself. The-Boy-Who-Lived gave his best friend a grateful smile and waved a hand at Hermione, who smiled sadly in return. Ron sort of nodded in a semi-courteous manner at Malfoy (though his teeth were clenched almost dangerously) and Draco acknowledged this with a nod of his own. Harry was almost floored at this gesture and how civil Malfoy seemed. What was up with Pale-Boy lately?  
  
"C'mon 'Mione, lets leave Harry to get dressed, he must be cold." Ron winked, Harry flushed, and in the next moment the two had departed down the hall.  
  
Harry let out a sigh of relief and walked back into the room. He sat on the scarlet sheets and watched Draco shut the door the large wooden doors before he flopped backward on the bed to rest on his back.  
  
The blonde boy walked over to Harry's bed and looked down at him, smirking and saying, "My Potter, aren't we anxious?" He made as though to slip out of his robes while saying, "I hardly know you Potter, but I cannot deny my adoring fans." He sighed dramatically.  
  
Harry shot up, bright red and flustered, "What are you talking about Malfoy? Get off it!"  
  
Draco laughed and smirked cheekily at Harry. "You are far too easy to work up Potter." Then, more seriously, while pointing at the door leading to the bathroom, "Go get dressed, you'll catch cold in a towel. Why did you wait around so long to get dressed anyway?"  
  
Harry began with a very loud, "It's your fault Malfoy, you -"  
  
Malfoy waved a finger and said, "never mind, get going."  
  
Harry looked at him oddly. Was that a hint of concern in his voice? The agreement was to be civil, not to act like his friend. Not that he minded. He'd rather a friendly Malfoy, than a cold one. His mind worked around this idea as he dressed in the prefect bathroom connected to their room. Only a small twinge of pain could be felt in his chest as he dressed. He'd forgotten about the potion for awhile.  
  
A thought struck him as he pulled on a red and gold rugby shirt. Of course! Malfoy was trying to phase him and get him in an uncomfortable phase before striking. Harry would have to keep his guard up.  
  
As he walked through the door connecting his room to the bathroom he saw Malfoy studying him. Why was he appraising him? Was it the outfit? It was a weekend so Harry didn't have to wear his robes. He wondered why Malfoy never wore regular clothes; he was always in robes. Usually black.  
  
"Tsk tsk," Malfoy clucked his tongue. "Did a drunken house elf dress you? Why do you wear such rags?" He looked as though the sight of Harry's garbs hurt his eyes.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "Why don't you wear normal clothes Malfoy?" He countered as he sat in his plush fireside chair. Malfoy looked appalled. "Muggle clothing? Now really Potter, I could never face anyone in rags such as those." Harry thought it looked as though the very idea caused Malfoy pain. But then, adding insult to injury, "Even if I did wear Muggle clothing it would be far more fashionable than that." The pale boy walked to Harry's side and plucked at his sleeve. "Come now Potter, stripes? Honestly, everyone knows you are quite well off. Surely you can afford some fashionable clothing?"  
  
Harry stood up and pulled his arm away from Malfoy, hands on his hips. "I haven't got taste in clothing? You wear the same thing every day!"  
  
Draco placed a hand to his chest and pretended to swoon, similar to that of the Dementor faint from Third year. "Harry Potter noticed what I wear? Heart be still! I cannot stand it!"  
  
Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Fine Malfoy, I'll give you some money and you can buy me some clothes that you think would be 'fashionable' ". He formed his fingers into quotation marks as he said this.  
  
Malfoy's lip curled. "You mean, I'm to touch the Muggle clothing? You won't pick it up off the rack for me?" He sighed, "As much as I'd love to go shopping Potter, I can't leave your by yourself or you'll be in worlds of pain. Poor, poor, Potter."  
  
Harry heard some malice behind those last words and wanted to say something but he held his tongue. 'You can always curse him later,' he thought.  
  
Harry began to say something else, however, when Malfoy held up a hand and walked toward the bathroom. "You can ask me on a date later Potter, I'm going to have a shower." He looked over his shoulder as he said, "Got to be nice and clean to go shopping you know."  
  
Malfoy shut the door behind him and Harry was dumbstruck. He really had to go shopping with Malfoy? What in the hell was going on? The world was completely backward now. Harry was rejecting his best friends and going on a casual outing with his worst enemy. 'Keep your guard up, keep your guard up.' It was like a mantra in Harry's head. He knew Draco was up to something, but what?  
  
Harry went to the bedside table and pulled a small pouch out of a drawer. It had a few Galleons with larger amounts of Sickles and Knuts. He would probably need to stop at Gringotts Bank before they stopped anywhere else. Knowing Malfoy had rich, elaborate tastes, Harry was probably going to have to dish out a fortune. He sighed, a regular habit of his recently and jumped onto his bed.  
  
He was busy looking around the room to keep himself busy when he saw the black book lying on Malfoy's bed. He was curious.what was it? He glanced toward the bathroom and could hear the water running. Draco had been in there, what, 5 minutes? He had time to take a quick peek. Harry dashed over there, quickly and quietly. He picked up the book and saw it was thick leather. Very expensive looking, but there was no title on the front, it must've worn off. He opened the cover and to his astonishment saw, 'Lord of the Flies' written on the front cover. "Lord of the Flies?" he whispered. "What is Malfoy doing with a Muggle book?"  
  
Harry went to set the book down on the bed in the same place he had found it when a hand darted, seemingly out of nowhere, and snatched it out of his hand. Harry gasped in surprise and looked to see Draco standing behind him. "Muggle book?" Draco sneered. "As if I'd read a book created in the mind of a Muggle. I'll have you know, William Gooding was a highly respected Wizard. But an undereducated person, such as yourself, wouldn't have known that."  
  
Harry was highly insulted. So what if he didn't know that Gooding was a Wizard? It wasn't like he constantly went about researching the lives and history of all people in existence. In fact, he felt so strongly about this that he told Malfoy just that. Malfoy rolled his eyes. What could you say to such a Neanderthal?  
  
Harry looked curiously at the book. Hands behinds his back and bent over he looked up at Malfoy, "I've heard of it, but what is that book about?"  
  
Malfoy gasped. "You've never read it?" He stepped back dramatically as though the shock of the idea that someone hadn't read this book was horrifying to him. Harry wasn't impressed with that.  
  
"The book is about the corruption of the human when left to his own devices," Malfoy said importantly. "Gooding believed that Man is inherently evil, and when he hasn't got society's morals to conform to he will become what we all fear. Ruthless, cunning, monstrous." Draco said this as though he completely believed it himself. "I wouldn't recommend this book to you Potter," he smirked. "There is so much symbolism, and the metaphors are everywhere. You wouldn't be able to keep up!"  
  
Harry was, again, insulted. So what? He could deal with some silly little metaphors. He grabbed the book from Malfoy and held it to his chest, afraid Draco would steal it back. "Let me read it Draco, I'm sure I'll be able to understand it." Malfoy cocked an eyebrow. "In fact, lets make a wager. If I can read it and understand it to your satisfaction, you have to."  
  
Harry trailed off, he had no idea what Malfoy would have to do. But then, as he looked at Draco's deep green motif on the bed and walls, a thought struck him. "You will have to change anything green in this room to scarlet. And anything, like Quidditch, house points, whatever; you'll cheer for Gryffindor." Harry had a largely satisfied look on his face.  
  
Harry thought his plan was ingenious, but Malfoy wasn't even phased. He just smiled and said, "Fine, and the same goes for you, if you can't read it, it's Slytherin for you." Then he smirked deviously and drawled, "You have 2 weeks to read the book, and I'm being generous."  
  
Harry didn't like that idea so much. He wasn't stupid, by any means, but he wasn't the fastest reader he knew. He opened his mouth to object when Malfoy held up a hand and said, "Sorry, Mr. Potter, you set the bet, I set the time limit, it's only fair."  
  
Harry laughed out loud at this and received a confused look in return. "Since when have you cared what's fair or not Malfoy?" He held his sides and laughed harder.  
  
Malfoy did not find this amusing whatsoever. He shoved Harry, (Malfoy's usual didn't resort to violence. They depended on sharp tongues and wit to make the opponent feel small and stupid) and Harry fell back and landed on Malfoy's bed. He didn't find this so funny, however. He jumped up and wiped off his pants and shirt as though he was covered in slime. "Eww I touched your bed! I'm contaminated." He was only half teasing when he said this. He didn't know where Malfoy had been. When that though popped into his mind he screwed up his face and backed up toward his own bed, arms outstretched, as though trying to keep something horrible at bay.  
  
Malfoy wasn't pleased with this, he was the cleanest person he knew, but he ignored it and walked to the fire. He dropped some floo powder into the flames and stuck his head in to leave a message to Dumbledore that they were going to Diagon Alley, and they'd be back in an hour or two.  
  
That done, he nodded to Harry, said "Let's go, we'll find some place to get you something decent to wear, though you still won't be able to compete with me." Harry gave him a strange look. "Well, we all know I'm the prettiest thing around Potter. Sorry, but it's true." And he practically ran out the door, the excitement of going shopping getting to him.  
  
Harry couldn't understand how Malfoy could be so excited about shopping of all things, but he had to go. If Malfoy went himself, well, he didn't want to think about the pain that he would have to endure. Damn that potion. So he Padded across the room, put on his shoes and headed out the door.  
  
"What did I get myself into this time?" He said, and he shook his head images of all the things that could go wrong playing inside his head.  
  
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Review Responses: I don't have time to do them all this time, sorry.  
  
Assassin: I'm sorry for the long wait. I'll try my best to have the next chapter typed very soon, though I can't make any promises.  
  
Rayne-Jelly: Thanks for the constructive criticism. I'll try to make it more interesting and have the spell play a more important part. (I just used it for an excuse to get them together though.[as if you didn't know that already -_-])  
  
Redmeadow: hope you liked Harry telling Hermione off! I like Hermione.but Harry needs to make his own decisions, right?  
  
Weasley Wonders: Just want to thank you for all your lovely reviews. I hope you keep reading, and I'm glad you like Draco.it's hard to keep him in character and still find a way for him and Harry to hook up.  
  
Pegasus: I'm sorry about the cliffhanger, but I find it hard to end a chapter any other way, it isn't there to annoy people, that isn't what I'm trying to do, maybe it's an obsessive compulsive disorder?  
  
Sweet Sorrow1: I'm glad you're liking this! It's so cool that this is the first male slash fic you've read, and you like it! I'm so very sorry for making you wait so long, and I hope you'll continue reading dispute this  
  
Lunaris: ACK! I'm sorry for the punctuation mistakes. I'm horrible that way, and as much as I hate to say it, it probably won't improve any time soon. I hope it doesn't make the story unreadable, or take away from it's enjoyablity. I'll try harder to fix it up. And I apologize for the cliffhangers, I know they're very annoying, and I hate it when people do that to me, but I find it hard to finish a chapter any other way. If you like, you can email me, and I'll give you a rundown of the next chapter so you can rest easy. My email is yama_strife@hotmail.com  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love you. ::gives out Draco plushies:: 


	8. Sea Fricassée

Salamander Scales chapter 8: Sea Fricassée Author: Yama Strife Rating: PG for pre-slash and an occasional swear word.  
  
I Apologize! This chapter was supposed to be twice as long, but due to time restraints I've turned it into two chapters. The other chapter will be posted tomorrow. I'm sorry!  
  
I know there have been like 5 chapters about one day, and I started to think that maybe I was moving the plot along a little too slowly. Let me know what you think and if that's the case, then I'll do like, a whole week in a chapter, and try and get this fic over and done with within a couple more chapters. I don't want to start boring anyone.  
  
I'm sorry about any inconsistencies with the canon, namely the train station, and Diagon Alley, but in order for me to cover up stupid mistakes I made in previous chapters, and to make the chapter work I had to write it the way I did. Hope it doesn't make it too hard to read _  
  
````````````````````` Harry thought Draco was maybe a little too enthusiastic as he found himself back in their room 15 minutes later.  
  
"Good idea that was," Harry complained. "Going all the way outside and forgetting it was freezing out there." He sighed as he shuffled through his wardrobe looking for a warmer cloak and some gloves.  
  
Harry was pulling a cloak off the hanger when a voice piped up. "Oh shut it, Potter. I'm trying to help you here." He pulled on some grey gloves and continued. "It isn't my fault you're fashion impaired. You're lucky to have me here to get you out of this textile despair."  
  
Harry's selective hearing kicked in here and he missed those last comments. "And you forgot we have to floo to the station anyway. Remember, we took a train here. Diagon alley is pretty far away."  
  
Draco sneered and replied with a swish of his cloak as he made his way to the fireplace. "You're the one who willingly followed me all the way to the front doors, Potter." And taking a handful of the powder in the tin beside the fireplace he said, "So don't criticize my memory." He made as though to throw the powder in the fireplace the stopped to remark, "Hurry up, and stop looking for your scarf, it's in the pocket of your coat." He threw the floo powder into the fireplace, said, "Diagon Alley," and was lost in the green flames.  
  
Harry, realizing that Malfoy was indeed correct, but not knowing how he knew he was looking for his scarf, felt quite foolish. He strode toward the fireplace and noticed a familiar twinge in his chest. "Not this again," he said. "I'd best hurry up before it gets any worse." He removed his right glove so he wouldn't get floo powder on it. He was still a little leery about the whole floo powder business, but he wouldn't chicken out and look more foolish than he already did. He could just imagine the superior look Malfoy would have if he had to come back because Harry was afraid of travelling by fireplace. This thought gave him new motivation and he threw the powder, said, "Diagon Alley" as clearly as he could and stepped into the fire before he changed his mind.  
  
He felt the green flames lick at his body before he was swirling about in a big haze. He saw his grate and as carefully as he could manage he stepped out and into a room resembling something of a train station.  
  
He looked around the dull room, grey and boring and thought Dumbledore ought to have a go at this place. Harry could guarantee it would certainly look more interesting. Harry continued to gaze around the room until he noticed a pale blonde head. Malfoy was sitting in one of the stiff plastic chairs, legs crossed looking impatient and the ache in his chest seemed to subside somewhat.  
  
Harry made his way toward the other boy. Malfoy head snapped up and looked in Harry's direction. He stood up in a single fluid motion and began to tap his foot as he waited for Harry to reach him. "What took you so long Potter?' He looked at a clock on the wall. "It took you ages to get here, and I hate being kept waiting," he said as he glared at Harry.  
  
Harry couldn't believe Malfoy sometimes. He was such a prat; he had barely been two minutes! "I'll keep you waiting if I want Malfoy," he said scathingly. "I'm not your servant, or someone to be ordered around when you see fit." Harry crossed his arms in what he hoped was a threatening manner. "You'd best remember that," he added in an angry whisper.  
  
Malfoy, as usual, did not provide Harry with the reaction he was hoping for. He burst into laughter. "What do you think you'll do Potter? Lose your scarf at me?" He pretended to be scared as he said in a quivering voice, "No, please! Find the scarf! I can't take it anymore!" Malfoy wiped at the tears of mirth forming in his eyes. "You are a character, aren't you Potter?"  
  
Harry couldn't help but smile a bit at the thought of Malfoy quaking in fear at the thought of a lost scarf, despite his attempt to appear angry.  
  
As they made their way past the many people in the station, through the front doors and into the street, Harry realized he didn't know of any muggle clothing shops here in Diagon Alley. He was going to ask Malfoy where they were, but he never got the chance. Malfoy looked around as though considering some life or death situation. He clapped his hands together as he came to the fateful revelation and said, "Alright then. Lunch first, then clothes."  
  
Harry would've been lying if he had told you he wasn't shocked. He barely ever saw Malfoy eat in the Great Hall, and he hadn't eaten breakfast this morning. Now he had this sudden interest in food? Harry slapped a hand to his forehead. He figured that if Malfoy was studied for years by millions of scientists they'd still never figure him out.  
  
The Gryffindor boy was staring blankly while thinking over the idea of Malfoy the complete enigma when Malfoy snapped his fingers and raised an eyebrow at Harry's expression. "You know, Potter. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but just opening your mouth and staring like that won't make the food fly in."  
  
Harry shook his head a bit to clear his head, and he felt his face flush, but it went unnoticed because of the rosy tinge already present on his cheeks from the cold.  
  
Harry realized as they walked to the nearest restaurant that he had to go to Gringott's because he didn't have much money on him. He interrupted Malfoy's ramblings about how much money and power he had, and whatever else he was on about. "Malfoy, I'd forgotten I have to go to the bank. I haven't got much money with me."  
  
Harry expected criticism or some sort of joke about his incompetence. However, what he did not expect was Malfoy to wave this away with such nonchalance and say, "It's fine, I'll pay for lunch."  
  
Harry would've gone into apoplectic shock had he not been seriously suspicious. He raised an eyebrow and said, "What, so you'll say 'order whatever' and then when we get the bill, run out of the store and leave me to wash dishes because I can't pay?"  
  
As they arrived at the restaurant Malfoy paused in front of the door and said, "That's a good idea Potter. I wasn't even thinking of that, but now I might just have to." He received a disapproving look from Harry and said in return, "I was only joking Potter. After you get money I just expect you to buy me loads of ice cream, that's all." Harry could've sworn he heard something that sounded like a stifled giggle but he ignored it and entered the restaurant in tow of Malfoy.  
  
They hung up their coats, on a rack beside the door smiling in relief at leaving the cold behind and walked toward the counter. Harry couldn't help but say, "Ice cream? But it's freezing outside!"  
  
Malfoy raised a fine blond eyebrow at Harry. "Freezing? This is just a hunch I've got, correct me if I'm wrong, but could that be the reason we were wearing those ensembles?" He pointed at the coats hanging on the coat rack.  
  
Harry couldn't believe how easily the sarcasm just rolled off his tongue. He would later come to find this an endearing (if you could call it that) characteristic but now he just found it tiresome.  
  
A woman sat them at a table near a window and gave them some menus. Harry looked around the restaurant feeling quite impressed. It was a large place; wood paneling, expensive lighting and beautiful furniture. But all the same he said to Malfoy, "When you said lunch I was expecting, like, a burger or something. Not a first class restaurant."  
  
Draco looked taken aback. "Where else would you eat but at Warlingham's? It's the most prestigious establishment in the area. Surely you don't expect me to eat at some little diner with drafty windows, dirty floors and mice all about the place?" For a moment Draco looked as though he had almost lost his appetite. Almost, but not quite. "Anyway," he continued. "Order whatever you like. I just expect the best damn sundae in return." He opened his menu and was lost behind it.  
  
Harry shook his head in confusion. He didn't know what was going on, so instead of thinking about it he opened his menu and concentrated on that. In fact, he had to concentrate because practically the whole menu was written in French. The last thing he wanted to order was octopus or pig liver. Where was a McDonald's when you needed it?  
  
The waitress returned then and interrupted the two with a small cough. "Excuse me sirs. My name is Shannon and I will be here to serve you this afternoon. Can I get you a drink?"  
  
Draco looked from his menu to say "Coffee, black." Before emerging himself behind his menu again.  
  
"Er- lemon tea please. No cream, but lots of sugar please." Harry smiled at her, "Thanks very much." The waitress nodded and walked away.  
  
Draco looked up from behind his menu at Harry with a bemused expression on his face. "You know what you're problem is, Potter?" he asked finally. Harry sat motionless, not knowing what to expect next. "You are far to nice to people when it is completely unnecessary." Harry made a sound as though to disagree, but Draco sat down his menu on the table and continued. "I mean, I have perfect manners and it's fine to be polite but you don't need to be so, so.nice and smiley about it. Did you get hit too many times with a friendly stick as an infant?"  
  
Harry didn't see a problem with being nice. He shrugged his shoulders and said simply, "Treat others the way you want to be treated."  
  
"You never had that attitude with me Potter, what happened there?" He tried to look indifferent about it, but Harry thought he might have been insulted.  
  
"You never really gave me much of a chance Malfoy, did you?"  
  
Draco was going to argue that point but Shannon returned with the drinks. "Are you ready to order yet sirs?" She asked as she set down the drinks.  
  
"Of course." Draco replied. "I'll have the 'Terrine de Filet de Sole' and then the 'Emincé de Volaille sauce Roquefort'." He folded his menu and handed it to Shannon. "Thank you," he said pointedly, looking directly at Harry as though proving a point.  
  
Harry brushed his hair out of his eyes and coughed, not noticing Shannon's eyes widen as she caught a glimpse of his forehead. "I'll have the, um." He stopped and his nose wrinkled in concentration.  
  
Draco smiled at Harry's predicament and cut in quickly (deciding to tease him about it later), "My companion will be having 'Soupe à l'Oignon gratinée' to start with and 'Fricassée de Mer et sa Julienne de légumes' for his main course."  
  
Harry handed his menu to Shannon a slight blush on his face and said, "Right, thank you."  
  
Shannon, just having realized she was serving The-Boy-Who-Lived, took the menu and held it to her chest as though it was a priceless artifact. She walked off in a daze muttering; "Harry Potter knows my name." She was surely going to rush to tell her friends who she had just served.  
  
Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, people can be so stupid sometimes. I don't understand the big deal." He took a sip of his tea.  
  
"I don't understand the big deal either. You're just a nice, cute boy who happened to get a big ugly scar on your head." Then, noticing Harry drinking he added, "She's going to keep that mug and use the DNA to clone you, you know."  
  
Harry disregarded the first comment about the scar and continued to drink. "Would it surprise you if I told you I'd heard that cloning bit before?" Malfoy certainly did not look surprised and Harry was sick of talking about himself so he changed the subject. "How can you drink that stuff straight Malfoy?" He wrinkled his nose in distaste.  
  
Draco waved this comment away. "I need coffee to survive. It doesn't taste bad, have you even tried it before?"  
  
Harry informed him that he had indeed tried coffee when he was younger, and Draco thought this was the problem. His reasoning was that Harry hadn't developed a sophisticated palate at that age. "Try it now, I'm sure you won't have a bad thing to say about it." Draco pushed his cup across the table toward Harry. "Go on, take a sip, it's quite good."  
  
Harry once again questioned Draco's motives. He gave him a disbelieving look but took a sip anyway. It certainly smelled much better than it tasted. It was far too hot, and incredibly bitter. "I'll stick to tea thanks," he said simply.  
  
Draco shrugged and took the cup back. He was just glad he didn't have to share it anymore. Coffee was his lifeblood, the more for him the better.  
  
Shannon was approaching the table again with their lunch and saw this exchange take place. She looked as though she had visibly deflated. The boys were chatting and smiling and sharing drinks. She then decided to herself that they were obviously together. Why were all the good ones taken? And in Harry's case -as far as Shannon could tell- gay?  
  
She smiled weakly as she reached the table, "Your lunch sirs," she said as she set down the plates in front of the boys. "Would you like a refill sir?" She asked Draco, noticing his nearly empty mug.  
  
"May as well bring the whole pot. You'll save yourself a few trips," Malfoy said honestly.  
  
Shannon departed once again to report to her friends that not only was it definitely Harry Potter, but he had a cute boyfriend with him. The waitress doubted that the blonde would drink all that coffee. She figured he was hinting at her that they didn't want any more disturbances. She sighed, visibly slouched and disappeared behind the kitchen doors.  
  
Harry meanwhile, not knowing anything about the rumor spreading in the kitchen, looked at his plate. "So just what is all this stuff that we're eating?" he asked. "Or is it better that I don't know?" He poked at something that looked like chicken with his fork.  
  
Draco smirked in the superior sort of way. "It's octopus and pig intestines," he said, noticing Harry pale considerably. "Oh come on Potter, do you think I'd put my stomach through that?"  
  
"You'd do it to spite me," Harry replied, losing his appetite.  
  
"Well, I didn't know you couldn't read French, Potter. If you wanted octopus you would be better off at a sushi bar, so stop worrying."  
  
Harry shook his head. "I've never been in a restaurant this fancy before. The muggles I grew up with fed me stale bread and cheese while I lived in a cupboard for eleven years."  
  
Malfoy's eyes widened a fraction. He knew Potter grew up with muggles but he figured they worshipped him, like all the other people did. "Is that why you're the seriously disturbed individual that you are today?"  
  
Harry smiled. "I don't really talk about my Aunt and Uncle that much. I wouldn't even wish my 'family' on you, Malfoy." He formed his fingers into quotes when he said family to show just how much he hated it there.  
  
"Well, my childhood wasn't all sunshine and rainbows either, Potter." At Harry's inquiring look he shrugged and said, "That's another story for another day Potter. Eat up, I assure you, it won't taste very good cold."  
  
Harry decided he would take Draco's word for it, as he had done so many times that day; surprising even himself, and tried the food placed in front of him. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, in fact, it was all quite good. He understood why it was such a distinguished restaurant.  
  
After they had finished eating over some idle small talk, Harry decided to find out what it was he had just ingested. Gryffindor bravery and all that.  
  
"Truth be told," Malfoy said. "It was Sea Fricassée on thinly shredded vegetables, and the entrée was Onion soup "au gratin". That's not so bad it is?"  
  
"Check, please." Harry said weakly.  
  
All Malfoy could do in response to this was shake his head.  
  
When they received the bill Harry almost fell out of his chair. Written on the small piece of paper was '30 galleons and 14 sickles'. "You intend on paying all of that Malfoy? It's highway robbery!" He stared at the price in utter disbelief.  
  
"Pshaw." Draco said, waving his hand. "This is nothing, don't worry about it." Out of his back pocket his pulled a small thing resembling a chequebook. They walked to the counter near the door and he filled out the paper with a self-inking quill located on a nearby desk and handed it to the man at the counter.  
  
"Thank you for your business," said the pompous looking fellow. The companions put on their jackets, gloves and scarves and walked out the door into the frigid air.  
  
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Part 2 of chapter 8 tomorrow (I hope!) Please check back soon! Reviews, compliments and criticism is always appreciated. Thank you! 


	9. Shopping is a Pain

Salamander Scales, Chapter 9: Author: Yama Strife Rating: PG Disclaimer: I forgot this last chapter. I don't own Harry Potter because I'm not J.K. Rowling. Notes: Sorry, there was a huge delay but I got it up as fast as I could. Hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm trying my best to speed up the process of including slash, but at the rate I'm going this is going to be a 20 chapter story by the time I get done.  
  
Thank you for all the kind reviews. They really motivate me and make me want to write and ::gasp:: I've reached over 100 reviews! This makes me ecstatic!  
  
'...' = thought  
  
"..." = speech  
  
Luckily for the two boys Gringott's was not too far from Warlingham's, the restaurant they had just left. The temperature seemed to have dropped since they were last outside. It felt unnaturally cold to Harry anyway.  
  
Gringott's seemed much brighter than usual, the white marble reflecting the cold sun. Harry squinted a bit and pulled his scarf higher on his face. He noticed Draco walking with his hands in his pockets and his head bent against the wind. An unusual posture to see in Draco Malfoy. Harry didn't like to see Draco hunched like that, and that he didn't like it bothered him even more. He quickened his pace.  
  
When they finally entered Gringott's the warmth hit them suddenly and the feeling began to flood back in their frozen limbs.  
  
"Take as long as you need in here Potter, I'm in no rush to go back outside." He shivered involuntarily at the thought of the cold.  
  
They walked down the long elegant carpet until they reached a free desk. A goblin with bristly white hair stood on a chair to see over the counter.  
  
"I'm here to withdraw some funds," Harry said, pulling a small key from his pocket.  
  
The goblin inspected the key, and finding it was authentic he ushered a younger looking goblin over to him. "Lockham, take Mr. Potter to his safe please," he said handing the key to the goblin called Lockham.  
  
Lockham nodded. "Follow me then, sir," he said bowing. He scurried to a door resembling the entrance to an elevator and opened it, ushering Harry and Draco into a cart.  
  
As they stood and waited for departure Harry noticed that Draco looked unusually pale. With a hint of concern on his face, he asked Draco if he was okay.  
  
"Yes, yes I'm fine," Draco snapped, avoiding Harry's gaze.  
  
Lockham entered the cart and shut the door behind him. Suddenly the cart lurched forward sharply as it began it's decent downward. Draco, unbalanced by the sudden jerk stumbled froward into Harry.  
  
Harry caught in his arms and tried to stand him up. Draco stood a moment in Harry's arms before stepping back awkwardly. Harry, being so noble as Gryffindors are, had wanted to make sure Malfoy had his balance back before letting him go but was relieved all the same when Draco backed away with an awkward, "Thanks". Something about the tinge on Draco's cheeks unnerved him. Or maybe it was just the shadows that made Draco appear to be flushed.  
  
Draco crouched down on the balls of his feet, not wanting to see the twists and turns the cart was magically maneuvering around. Harry saw this, and although they were complete opposites, Harry was strongly reminded of Hagrid and his first trip to Gringott's. Hagrid had refused to talk the whole time because the ride made him feel ill. It was funny that someone so large could be scared of a cart ride like this. Harry had always found these trips fun!  
  
When the cart came to a stop Harry saw Draco cringe and open an eye slowly, as though checking to see if the danger had passed.  
  
Harry felt a wave of sympathy for Draco, but couldn't help but smile a bit. He was reminded of a little kid on a roller coaster and found it cute, in a funny kind of way. He tapped Draco on the shoulder. "It's okay now, you're safe." He held out a hand to help Malfoy up.  
  
Draco glared. He didn't like being made fun of, least of all by Harry Potter. He gave Harry a look that plainly said, 'I don't need your help,' but he took the hand nonetheless. As he stood up he looked at Harry. Harry who was nice to everyone, deserving or not, Harry that helped people, not be cause he had to, but because he wanted to. Harry who was smiling that damn smile and looking Draco right in the eyes.  
  
Draco was flustered. Flustered and embarrassed and not sure why he felt like that. He shook his head, dropped Harry's hand and stepped out of the cart.  
  
Lockham had already opened the vault and was waiting for Harry to withdraw what he wanted.  
  
That oh-so-familiar gold glint caught Draco's eyes and any previous though of being embarrassed was gone. He couldn't help but stand directly behind Harry to see into the vault. He stood on his tiptoes so he could see over Harry's head and he placed a hand on Harry's back to steady himself.  
  
"I'm impressed Potter," he said in that lazy drawl. "You're not so rich as I am, but it's not a bad start."  
  
Harry nodded, but unbeknownst to Malfoy he didn't really hear a word that Draco had just said. When Draco got that close to Harry he got an uncomfortable burning in his chest. Not a painful sensation by any means, just unsettling. He assumed it was just another side effect of the potion and tried as hard as he could to ignore Draco's breath on his neck.  
  
Harry shook his head. 'What am I thinking? This potion is going to be the death of me yet.'  
  
He shoved some Galleons and Sickles into a pouch (ignoring the Knuts, thinking that he probably wouldn't need them if Draco was the one picking out the clothes) and said, "Thanks," to Lockham before walking back into the cart. Followed reluctantly by Draco who began to pale again.  
  
*/*/*/*/*  
  
After a rather uneventful walk through the sub zero temperatures (both parties avoiding talking to one another) they arrived at a clothing store called "Muggle Clothing for all Occasions."  
  
Harry, breaking the silence at last said, "I didn't think there were any clothing shops like this in Diagon Alley."  
  
Draco shrugged. "Ah, well, some Wizards don't have as good a fashion sense as others," he remarked as they walked into the store.  
  
It was a rather friendly looking place on the inside. Plushy carpet and warm coloured walls added to the effect. Harry was surprised because while it looked small on the outside it was huge on the inside. He figured there was a charm to give the building more space than would normally allow.  
  
A short middle aged witch approached them and asked if she could be of any assistance. Draco gave her a once over and deciding she was not up to par, rejected her offer. "I'm sure we'll manage ourselves," he said.  
  
Harry mouthed an apology to her for his friend's behavior; Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
Draco surveyed the store to find an area that he could stand to immerse himself in. Spotting an area in a far corner with potential he beckoned for Harry to follow him.  
  
"Now," Draco began. "If you see anything you like, it must first pass by my approval before you try it on, understood?"  
  
Harry nodded, not realizing there were strict rules for shopping. He looked on a rack in front of him, and began to pull out a sweater that didn't look too bad when Malfoy stopped him  
  
Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm and said with a hint of disgust, "If you pull that sweater off that rack I will see to it that you are choked to death with aforementioned sweater."  
  
Harry gave him a quizzical look. "What's wrong with this sweater?" he asked, honestly curious.  
  
Draco shuddered. "Oh, so many things," he said dramatically. "But to name a few," he continued, "ugly colour, scratchy material, wrong size and cable knit, Harry. CABLE KNIT!" He emphasized his point by giving Harry a little shake with each syllable of 'cable knit'. "That alone should be enough to make your eyes bleed."  
  
Harry, even after this performance, still didn't think the sweater was all that bad; but if offended Malfoy so much he didn't think it was worth the trouble.  
  
Draco turned to the rack behind him and shuffled through the clothing. Harry could tell Malfoy had mixed emotions. He obviously loved shopping, but apparently hated muggle clothing. And as he said earlier, he really didn't want to touch it.  
  
Eventually he found a shirt that he thought was alright. "This sweater is acceptable." It was a deep green, ribbed turtleneck. "Nice enough colour and not itchy looking."  
  
Harry looked at the sweater and shook his head. "Malfoy that shirt is five times to small, I can't wear it."  
  
Draco gave Harry a look that plainly said, 'Is this guy serious?'. "Potter that shirt you're wearing is five times too big. This, on the other hand is perfect."  
  
He walked away for a few moments to find something to complete the outfit before returning with with some black corduroys. "This is one outfit, try it on and let me see."  
  
Harry's eyes widened and he held out his hands in protest at the sight of the pants. What was Malfoy trying to turn him into?  
  
Malfoy read this look and sighed. Why were people so difficult? He shoved the pants into Harry's hands. "Don't argue! Change room now!" he said, pointing to the change stalls.  
  
Harry rolled his and sighed at Draco's non-threatening authority, but he went anyway. He stomped all the way to the change room doors. Harry murmured and grumbled the whole time he was in there and then yelled out, "You forgot to give me the shirt."  
  
He opened the door a crack and Malfoy handed over the shirt. "It's no wonder you don't have a girlfriend, Potter. In the clothes you were wearing you looked like an obese man who'd lost too much weight and left his skin around."  
  
Harry got a rather funny image in his head when Malfoy said this, but he ignored it and struggled into the too-tight shirt.  
  
Draco continued his assault on Harry's old clothes until the Golden Boy stepped out of the change stall. Malfoy's voice was cut short by the miraculous change in front of him.  
  
The green turtleneck clung to Harry in just the right places showing of his lithe Seeker's build. The colour accent Harry's emerald eyes perfectly and made them seem greener still, if at all possible. The pants hugged his hips and accented his muscular legs, the colour matching Harry jet-black hair perfectly.  
  
Harry waited in embarrassment; a rosy tinge on his cheeks, for Malfoy to say something, but the blonde boy was dumbstruck. He had expected a bit of a change but nothing so dramatic as this. Harry took Malfoy's silence for a bad thing and said sheepishly, "I thought it looked silly too."  
  
Harry turned to go back to the change room and get out of the clothes but Malfoy's arm shot out toward Harry and he said, "No," rather desperately.  
  
Realizing that may have been a tad too abrupt, he cleared his throat, dropped his arm to his side and said, "I mean, it certainly looks better than the walrus clothes."  
  
He looked down his nose at Harry and said, nonchalantly, "It's acceptable enough." He looked Harry up and down once more and said finally, "But something just isn't right."  
  
Draco scratched his chin thoughtfully and ran a hand through his blonde locks. He began to circle around Harry, examining him, unsure of what it was.  
  
Harry had never been in a more uncomfortable position, well, except for his first awkward kiss with Cho. Harry didn't like being under such tough scrutiny, and Malfoy was quite the critic as Harry has come to learn.  
  
Harry cringed, he felt like he was being sized up as prey, or something like that. Malfoy walked to face Harry, squinted a bit and snapped his fingers. "I've got it!"  
  
He stalked up to Harry and tipped up his chin, examining him from different angels. They were practically nose to nose and Harry was unbelievably embarrassed. Malfoy cupped his hands to the sides of Harry's face, Harry's mind all the while examining a million scenarios, some extremely horrifying. But to Harry's relief, and oddly confusing disappointment, Malfoy removed Harry's glasses from his face and took a few steps back to examine the results.  
  
"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "That's exactly the look I was going for. Those glasses made you look like an owl for Merlin's sake."  
  
Harry blinked and tried to adjust his eyes to the sudden lack of vision. "Malfoy, give those back. If you hadn't noticed I need those to see." He reached blindly in the direction he thought he saw Malfoy, but his hands only met with air.  
  
"Mr. Potter, I'm afraid that you can't have them back. We're going to get you surgery, find a spell, or contacts or something. Anything to get rid of this hideous eyesore I have the displeasure of holding in my hand."  
  
If Harry could see properly he would've noticed Malfoy with obvious disgust on his face. Instead he crossed his arms and said firmly, "Malfoy, I need those. I'm not getting surgery, I'm certainly not letting you point your wand in my eye and contacts are creepy. Just give them back."  
  
He could make out Malfoy shaking his head and resorted to pouting. "Malfoy, please, I need the back. Please? I let you get me clothes so can't I at least keep my glasses?" He stuck his bottom lip out (an unusual tactic for Harry) and added another 'please' for good measure.  
  
Malfoy sighed. He hated it when people gave him that look. Only he was allowed to use that look. But, defeated for the moment, he gave Harry the glasses back. Besides, he could always steal them later on and hide them. That strategy usually worked. Malfoy was good at acting innocent.  
  
"Fine Harry, have it your way. But this isn't over yet." Harry put the glasses on and looked relieved, he felt vulnerable when he couldn't see. Even more so when it was Malfoy he was with.  
  
Malfoy grabbed some other clothes that he thought were suitable, obviously frustrated and wanting to leave the store. He handed them to Harry, who could barely see above the pile of jeans, fitted tees and sweaters. "Come on then, Potter. Let's go. You can only be in one store so long before it bores you."  
  
He beckoned for Harry to follow him to the front and told him to drop the clothes on the counter Harry smiled at the middle-aged witch they had talked to earlier and got out the money to pay for the clothing. The clothing that cost Harry in the upwards of 80 galleons. He thought this was insane, but at a look from Malfoy, he handed over the gold, grabbed the bags and thanked the woman.  
  
As they headed out the door, Malfoy smiled impishly and said, "Now that that's done, I believe you owe me some ice cream, Harry."  
  
Harry couldn't help but smile, even in the biting cold as he followed Malfoy back down the street.  
  
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Sorry it took so long everyone. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one will contain the obvious slash, and the beginning of the relationship. So keep reading! Thanks for your patience, as always. Comments and critiques are always appreciated.  
  
~Yama 


	10. Broken Wrists and Regrets

Salamander Scales

Chapter 10: Broken Wrists and Regrets

Author: Yama Strife

Rating/Pairing: PG (for swearing) Draco/Harry

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, the books, the movies, and I make no claim to do so. They belong to J.K. Rowling and all affiliates. I do own the idea to this particular scenario however; I've just borrowed the characters.

A/N: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. Half a year in fact, and I hope that someone still retains interest in this fic. I had extreme writer's block, but hopefully I'll be able to finish this soon. Thank you as always for reading. I appreciate it so much.

----

Harry was still convinced Malfoy was clinically insane for eating ice cream in the freezing cold weather, but he also had to admit his enthusiasm was catching. (Odd as it was to think of 'enthusiasm' and Malfoy in the same sentence). Though it wasn't so catching that he could eat as much as the blonde. Honestly, where did he put all that food? Quidditch was fun, but it wasn't strenuous exercise, and he couldn't burn that many calories from playing.

Harry's thoughts wandered like this most of the way home until a disturbing image of his Uncle Vernon running on a treadmill popped into his head. This was such a far-fetched and hideous idea that Harry decided to get his mind off it and turned his attention to Malfoy.

They were currently sitting in a place reminiscent of a train station waiting for a free fireplace. Malfoy looked terribly inanimate and had sat the only bag he was carrying (Harry had to lug the other six himself, Malfoy refusing all but the lightest) on the ground beside him.

"I'm so bored," Malfoy drawled, his chin propped up on his hand. "Why is it so busy anyway?" he asked, looking around at the many people running in and out of the grates.

"It's about the time everyone gets off work, Malfoy. Of course it's gonna be busy" Harry said, trying to mollify the grumpy Slytherin. Harry could tell patience did not run deep in Draco's family.

Draco sighed and moved his chin to the other hand. Harry could see a red mark on his chin from the pressure. A stark contrast to the pale visage "I'm still bored, though."

For a few minutes Draco sat silently, a bemused expression on his face. He was, apparently, deep in thought. Harry wondered what Malfoy was thinking so intently about, but he wasn't kept waiting long for an answer. Malfoy stood suddenly, immediately regaining his composure and regal posture. He picked up the featherweight bag and turned to Harry. "That's it, I'm sick of all this waiting. We're going now, come on."

Malfoy marched toward a currently full fireplace, Harry trailing closely behind (walking as quickly as the six bags would allow) and tapped a tall man in fancy robes on the shoulder. Harry got the impression that this man held an important job. Harry wouldn't have tapped him.

"Excuse me," Malfoy said. "But Harry Potter here is in a hurry and he really must use this grate as soon as possible." Then in a whisper Harry could barely hear, as though divulging an important secret, "Death eater business and that sort of thing." He nodded in Harry's direction and then in a normal voice, "so if you wouldn't mind could we please jump ahead of you?"

The man in the expensive robes turned to look at Harry to see if it really was him. Not seeing any evidence of a scar and not wanting to be hoodwinked by some hoodlums he said skeptically, "That isn't Harry Potter."

Malfoy tutted at the man's disbelief and lifted the fringe off Harry's forehead. Harry stood there speechless and incapable of doing anything, hands being full and all. He couldn't believe the conversation Draco was holding with this man.

With Harry's messy hair out of the way the man could plainly see the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. "By George," he said in a smooth accented voice, "it is him!" Then, obviously dumbstruck, "Go ahead, by all means."

"Thank you very much, sir," Malfoy said, looking up at the man with his most winning smile. Harry stood there not able to say anything. The way that Malfoy used Harry like that to get ahead in line, unbelievable!

Draco steered Harry toward the grate and threw in some floo powder for Harry. "Hogwarts School," Draco said as he pushed Harry into the green flames.

Harry found it hard to navigate his way to the right exit since he was still holding all those packages Malfoy was too lazy to carry, but he managed. As he stumbled out of the fireplace and into his room he dropped one of the bags, but that went unnoticed momentarily as that familiar twinge pricked at his chest. As he caught his breath he bent down to pick up the last parcel finding it somewhat difficult while he held five other bags.

It was at this moment Draco walked (Malfoys never stumbled) into the room, head held high as usual, oddly free of soot and ash. He didn't see Harry crouched low on the ground as he walked right into the room and into Harry. It may have been that Malfoys did not stumble, but they could apparently, go flying head over heels. And Draco did just this.

He did a funny sort of somersault before coming to rest on his back in front of the bedside table. As Malfoy lay there he groaned in pain, eyes tightly shut.

Harry immediately dropped the rest of the bags and rushed to Malfoy's side. As he knelt down he said in a panic, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No Potter, I'm lying here, cringing in pain for the good of my health," he snapped viciously. Malfoy had noticed during his schooling with Potter that he frequently pointed out the obvious and asked rather stupid questions.

Harry sighed, he didn't want to get angry with Draco since he was hurting, but boy, Malfoy knew how to try his patience. "Alright, let's try this again. It hurts, but where exactly does it hurt?" He said, taking a deep calming breath.

Malfoy nodded toward the hand Harry was kneeling beside. "It's the same damn hand Crabbe broke before. Some bloody bone repairing charm that was," he spat.

"Alright, let's get you up and take a look at it, okay?" Harry moved to Draco's other side, not wanting to hurt the offending wrist any more than it was. He slipped a hand behind Malfoy's neck and the other on his chest and helped him to sit up. Harry was surprised to notice how light Draco was. He commanded so much presence wherever he was, he expected him to have a little more weight to him. But being a seeker as Harry was, required more agility and a lighter frame, so maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised.

"Well, all in all, Potter, that was a rather stupid place to crouch down. Were you trying to kill me?" He asked, breaking into Harry musings. Harry looked at Draco and noticed how uncomfortable he looked. He proved this as a small moan escaped his lips. "Why do bad things always happen to me?" he sighed.

Harry wanted to respond that this was hardly bad, even if the bones were broken they could easily be repaired. Harry was the one with some unknown disease-thing with no cure floating around in his body. He didn't say this, but he wanted to.

He placed Draco's good arm around his shoulder, grabbed him around the chest and hoisted him into a standing position. Draco didn't fight against the help but said, standing once again, "I'm quite capable of getting up on my own, Potter. Though he was scowling Harry could tell he was grateful for the help. Though he never would hear him say "Thank you."

Harry gently lifted Draco's hand in his own (receiving a grimace) and ran his fingers lightly over the wrist. He turned Draco's hand over and examined his palm.

"I don't want to push down to check if it's broken, it'll hurt if I do..." he looked up as he said this, and was bewildered to see Malfoy's face only inches from his own, breathing heavily, face flushed. Malfoy looked up into Harry's eyes; they looked clouded. Mostly from pain, Harry assumed, but he couldn't interpret what else he saw. He found his mind in a fog and felt himself being drawn into the stormy grey eyes, in his chest he couldn't quite decipher what it was he felt...elated, maybe? The potion was obviously revealing a new side effect to Harry.

Harry found himself being drawn in...closer...closer...closer until he was a mere inch from Draco. He could feel Draco's warm breath falling lightly on his face, feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell a sweet earthy fragrance and Harry knew he had to be closer. He saw the pink tinge on Draco's cheeks and saw Draco's long eyelashes flutter shut (closer...closer...) and Draco turned away, pulling his hurt hand out of Harry's, eyes still shut, still breathing heavily.

Harry had forgotten he had been holding his hand all that time, but once it had been removed from his own it felt oddly cold. He shook his head and ran a hand through his messy black hair. "What in the world is going on?" He felt so confused. There was some sort of turmoil inside Harry and he didn't even want to begin to understand the feelings or reasons. What he did understand, and wish he didn't, was what he wanted to do to Malfoy right then. That thought in itself was enough to make Harry want to run out of the room and never return.

Draco broke into his thoughts (as he so often did) and said, unusually subdued, "Maybe I should go to the hospital wing now..."

He started to walk out the door and remembering Harry's condition (peculiarly sensitive to another's feelings) said, "coming?" in that same soft voice.

"I-I'm sorry Draco, I don't know what happened there..." He ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit, Draco supposed. "This potion, it..."

"Don't worry about it, let's just go." And without another word he opened the door and walked down the hall.

As Harry saw that familiar cloak brush out the door he began to feel as though he'd suffered a great loss. All he could think about was the surprising warmth of that hand, the cloudy grey eyes, the flushed skin and that earthy smell. All he could think about was Draco. But Harry had never had thoughts of this sort before, especially about his former arch-rival.

"Damn this potion, damn it all the way to hell." He wanted to scream so badly, he wanted to punch the wall, kick the door and curse that stupid room to oblivion. He couldn't even think about how it was effecting Draco, couldn't think about that slow, quiet tone of voice. The regretful posture. None of it.

As he felt that damn twinge in his chest he knew Draco had gotten far ahead of him. So, lost in confusing thoughts he left the room, shut the door and began that oh-so-familiar trek to the hospital wing.

-----

Sorry it's so short, but I've run out of computer time and this seemed a good place to leave it. I already have most of the next part written and it should be posted by tomorrow. Though I won't make promises, they never seem to work out for me. More angst and (hopefully) slash next chapter.

Thank you as always for reading, you have my complete and utter devotion.


	11. Staring at the Fire

To all the readers: I'm so sorry that this has taken, what, about nine months, to be updated. It wasn't that I lost interest, it was just that real life got in the way. I'm not going to describe in detail what these things are, but if I had been able I would've updated sooner.

I hope that you continue to read, and I will continue to write. This has been my most successful fiction ever and I'd hate to let it just die away. I was suffering from some serious writer's block as well. If the tone, style and story seem to have changed, I hope you'll understand that it's because after nine months, people change as well.

This is an unrevised copy. It was written in stream of consciousness with no notes and no plan written for the chapter because I wanted to upload it as quickly as possible. It has been double-checked for errors, but not revised and rewritten.

Please enjoy, and accept my most sincere apologies.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. I don't claim to own any of them, I'm just borrowing them for awhile.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Harry trailed behind Draco, not able to force himself to look up and see the boy in front of him. He didn't know what had just happened, back in their room. Harry was sure it was another, new, side effect of the Sansus Pyro potion. But what in the world would cause the potion to make him feel this way? Having Draco near was supposed to reverse the effects of the potion he had taken. To extinguish the 'inner flame' he felt in his chest. Not cause new side effects.

Harry was dazed and confused. When he got that close to Malfoy his thoughts just seemed to stop. He was drawn in by an impulse. He just had to get closer to him. Harry felt that, had Draco not pulled away, well, he didn't want to think what he would've done to him. His face grew hot with the idea. Why though? And then when Draco had pulled away he looked as confused and flushed as he did. He had also looked hurt.

They had been in the room together for only two days and yet the dynamic had changed so quickly, so dramatically it made Harry's head spin.

He wanted to walk beside Draco. To talk to him, to try and understand, explain, something. Anything. But what to say? He couldn't bring himself to look him in the face. He felt ashamed and embarrassed for the way he had acted. But hadn't Malfoy acted the same? He could've pulled away sooner too. The potion must've been causing some kind of reaction in Draco too. It was his Fire Salamander, after all.

But on the other hand, Draco was hurt. His wrist broken (yet again), or so Harry guessed. Maybe he was just dazed by the pain and hadn't realized what was happening.

Lost in his thoughts and without realizing it, Harry found himself at the door to the infirmary. He looked at Draco and saw him shake himself, draw himself up to his full height and regain his aristocratic stance. It was just that easy for Malfoy to do.

For some reason, that stiff posture and those hardened eyes made Harry feel small. And injured. Like he had been personally attacked.

Nonetheless, hurt feelings or no, Harry entered the hospital wing.

Looking around he saw that the room was empty. Goldstien must have been fixed up, then. Harry began to wonder where Madam Pomfrey was, but as the door to the hospital wing creaked shut the Matron bustled over to see who had entered, alerted by the noise.

"Hello there, Dears. What seems to be the problem?" Madam Pomfrey began automatically. Then she realized whom she was addressing.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, what seems to be the problem this time?" she asked, a glint in her eye and a rather steely quality in her voice.

"My wrist, Madam Pomfrey, has yet again been broken," Draco said, sounding rather haughty. "I can't help but wonder that if it had been fixed properly to begin with, this wouldn't have happened."

Madam Pomfrey bristled and Harry slapped a hand to his forehead. Wanting to appease Draco and the Matron, Harry raised his hand in an offering of peace and said, kindly, "It was my fault Madam Pomfrey. He tripped over me and fell on it. It wasn't his, or your fault, so," he said, looking pointedly at Draco (and feeling his chest burn slightly and his head get light) "there isn't any need for anyone to be upset, or blamed."

Draco 'humphed' and Madam Pomfrey looked relatively soothed at Harry's words.

She shuffled Draco toward a bed to sit down, thick skirts ruffling, and said to him, "wait here, Dear. I'll just be off to get my wand and we can have it fixed up, again, in no time."

Draco sat on the bed and visibly slumped. His proud airs leaving as he held onto his hurt, abused wrist.

Harry sat on a chair next to the bed and appraised the Blonde's change in posture. Why was it that he always felt the need to keep up the façade around others? And why was it that he no longer felt he had to keep them around Harry? He felt he ought to examine this more thoroughly but decided he was far too drained. Emotionally and physically. He didn't want to think or worry about anything right now. But as Harry knew only too well, your thoughts come think and heavy when you least want them.

The painful grip he felt in his chest when Draco was away was gone, but he felt something else in its place. It burned and made him feel sullen and hollow. The sooner Dumbledore, Snape and Madam Pomfrey figured this out the better off Harry would be. And Draco as well, undoubtedly.

Lost in his all-consuming thoughts, Harry didn't even register that Madam Pomfrey had returned until he was hit in the knee with one of her ruffled skirts.

"Alright Draco. We'll have this fixed up in a moment. It may twinge a bit, but, you knew that since it was only just yesterday you had it fixed, correct?" She eyed him, but Harry could see something like motherly affection underneath the stern glance. He guessed that you would have to be a bit motherly to take care of hundreds of students in a school.

She picked up the delicate wrist, touched her wand to it gently and said, "Bracchium Redintegro." Harry saw Draco grimace slightly, but the look of pain faded quickly and Draco flexed and rolled his wrist without looking pained.

"There we are, Dear. Good as knew. But let me just give you a Bone Strengthening Solution to make it less susceptible to more breaks, eh?"

She bustled away again to look into a large cabinet for the right potion. Harry turned his attention from the Matron on to Draco.

"How does it feel, Draco? Do you think you'll be okay?" Harry asked his question softly, still afraid to look Draco in the eye, for fear of what he might see there.

"I suppose it will be. One can't break one's wrist twice in the same number of days without some repercussions, no?" Harry felt that Draco's tone was rather cold and distant and he recoiled slightly.

Harry opened his mouth to reply when the Nurse Witch returned once again to give Draco a bottle that contained the Bone Strengthening Solution.

"Take a mouthful now, and another one before you go to bed and when you wake up. It should help prevent this from happening again. As much as I enjoy seeing you Mr. Malfoy, it shouldn't be under such terrible circumstances." She smiled. "You're free to leave now, you as well, Mr. Potter, unless you needed something too?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks. I just came, well, because- you know…"

"Of course I do, Dear. Good evening."

With that, she nodded and walked back into her office, shutting the door behind her quietly.

Draco downed some of the potion and shuddered. Harry had once taken a draught of Skele-Grow and he imagined it must taste something alike. He could understand why the taste offended Draco so.

"Well," said Draco, breaking Harry out of his musings, "shall we go back then?" He still had a cold note in his voice when he spoke.

Harry still couldn't help but feel hurt at this. It was like a personal attack. Only a few short days ago Harry would be passive to any mark of cutting in Draco's tone. Now it sliced him like a knife. How he wished it would be like that again. He hated this. He hated the way he felt around the Slytherin. He hated the way he felt when he wasn't near him. It was a lose-lose situation for Harry.

The scathing remark hurt more, Harry figured, because he was becoming used to the lack of hostility Draco had for him. It wasn't easy like his friendship with Ron and Hermione but the sting wasn't there at least.

Now it was back. Harry hated that sting too.

Draco waved a hand in from of Harry's eyes and Harry started. "Oh, yeah, alright, let's go."

As they left the hospital wing Draco, once again, walked ahead of Harry. Not enough for the twinge of pain to return, but enough to get his point across. He needed to talk to Draco. Why had that moment back in their room affected Draco as much as Harry? Well, of course it affected him, Harry reasoned. But why in the same sort of way? Was the potion affecting Draco too?

Harry continued in this vein, ignoring the school around him, and almost bumping into several students, probably on their way back from supper. He didn't notice the pointed looks. The sly glances at he and Draco. The knowing smirks. He didn't notice any of it, too lost in his thoughts. If he had noticed he may have been wondering about the whispering and caught a bit of the new rumor floating around the school since late that afternoon.

When he finally reached the room he and Draco shared, the doors were already open and Draco was sitting by the fire, staring blankly at the flames.

The atmosphere was tense. Harry didn't want it to stay that way. If he was going to have to stay here he was going to at least make it livable.

He pushed the doors shut behind him and crossed the room quickly to sit in his plush chair. The familiarity ('familiarity… I've only been here for two days…' he thought) was welcoming and he felt mildly comforted.

Draco made no sign to show that he had noticed Harry sitting there.

Harry opened his mouth tentatively to speak and then shut it again. What should he say? He didn't even understand what was happening. How can you begin to compensate for something when you don't even know what you've done?

He sat quietly for a moment, writing, 'H-A-R-R-Y' on the fabric of the arm of his chair and sighed quietly.

Feeling that it was best to get it over with, rather than dwell on the consuming feelings, he spoke softly, "Draco… I'm sorry. I don't know exactly what-"

Draco raised a hand and cut off Harry, still staring blankly at the fire. "Listen, Potter. I- well. Let's just not talk about it okay? It isn't a big deal; it's just the potion, right? No need to get worked up about something like that."

Harry let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding in and felt somewhat relaxed. "Great, I was hoping that it wouldn't be weird… or something. It's just this bloody potion, it's playing with our heads, but the Professors will find a cure soon enough."

"Right, of course…" Draco trailed off; he didn't sound entirely convinced.

Harry stood up and moved toward Draco, who recoiled slightly. Not deterred, Harry put a kind hand on his shoulder and said lightly, "Don't worry. I don't know why, but this potion is affecting you almost as much as me, isn't it? We'll get it fixed soon enough."

Harry felt Draco lean into his touch slightly, but pulled away almost as quickly as Harry felt it.

"Right, well, I'm going to rest for awhile, Harry. Just get me when dinner arrives, okay?"

Draco stood quickly and walked to his bed, avoiding looking at Harry, where he dumped himself rather heavily and ungracefully onto the sheets.

Harry felt a strong urge to go over and talk to him, to convince him everything would be okay. To hold him gently and rock away whatever it was that was troubling him so deeply. He knew how the potion made him feel, but what could it be making Draco feel to make him seem to out of himself.

He shook the thoughts away as promptly as they entered his head. They were almost incoherent, those thoughts. As if they weren't being placed there by him. It was the potion.

He shrugged it off and crossed to his bed, picking up the little black book Draco had given to him. 'Well,' he thought, 'if I'm to win this bet with Draco I may as well start now.'

And with one last fleeting look at the dark form lying opposite him, he opened the book and began to read.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Well, there's part eleven. I hope you enjoyed. I hoped to make this chapter longer but my tendinitis is acting up and I can't type for very long, and since I wanted to get this chapter up tonight, I cut it off here.

I'll create more interactions between Harry and Draco in the next chapter, but I think it needed a touch of seriousness.

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed. Given me compliments, criticism, advice, etc. I've taken it all to heart and it has made me a better writer through and through, I believe.


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